Blanket Pals
by miraimisu
Summary: The blanket was shared, his voice, warmth and aroma fleeting all around her. Their eyes stared at the movie in front of them, but all they could see was each other, lost in a sea of emotions they couldn't put a name on, herself lost in his licking flames and him, lost in the night sky of her eyes, sinking until he couldn't breathe.


**Summary:** the blanket was shared, his voice, warmth and aroma fleeting all around her. The first thing she felt was how wrong this was– yet how right it was. Their eyes stared at the movie in front of them, but all they could see was each other, lost in a sea of emotions they couldn't put a name on, herself lost in his licking flames and him, lost in the night sky of her eyes, sinking until he couldn't breathe.

 **Rating** : T

 **Word count** : 25.299 /faints, I'm breaking records wtf

 **Author's note** : Ok so I am here again with a SUPER LIGHTHEARTED FIC FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT because I enjoye Kacchako so much? And uh, I write long stuff, IT'S MY JAM NOW! It's a bit messy too? BUT EVERYONE LIKES MESSY STUFF AM I RIGHT? :D /silently hopes you do Bear with me, because I love this fandom and it's not gonna be the last of me! I WILL THRIVE!

 **Warnings** : roller coaster ahead. It's gonna crush you.

* * *

It all started with a silly petition– the most extra of conversations in the most extra of scenarios.

"Yo, Uraraka."

As soon as she registered who the voice belonged to, her whole form turned around to face the ashen blonde boy. His usually knit brow only deepened after seeing the weight in her arms. "What the fuck are you doing with that stupid hat– and what's with that dirt all over you?"

Uraraka opened her mouth to explain that he was also supposed to be participating in that damn harvest activity with the other classes, that he should be making some social life apart of his loyal friend Kirishima and his animal hands– but as words were going to leave her mouth, she just decided to drop it, and sighed.

"Good afternoon to you, too." she smiled at him, turned and proceeded her way. "Is there anything you need from me?"

Surprisingly, Bakugou trailed behind her, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, yeah." that perked her interest, so she stopped in her tracks. Her round eyes peeked and looked at him in pure curiosity. It didn't usually happen that Katsuki Bakugou – Jerk Explosion Murder for his… friends? (if he had any apart from Kirishima) – chased after anyone, especially if that someone was close friends with his mortal enemy.

"It's not like I fucking need anything from you, don't make misleading assumptions." grumbled he, frowning and all with his hands deep in his pockets. His forehead was glistening with sweat. "That damn nerd redhead has sent me over to you. He wants us to have a movie night."

Uraraka blinked. Once, then twice, until she started to freak Bakugou out. The basket almost fell off her arms and he swore he had broken her. "You mean, as in, like, the two of us?"

A mad blush spread throughout his pale face, eyes darting everywhere but her round face. If he looked at her he'd lose all the courage he had been building up. "The fuck, Uraraka? Of course not! Please, I thought you were damn smart."

Uraraka left the basket by her feet, starting to lose her cool against the guy. Like, she had no problem hanging out with Kirishima, none at all– but Bakugou was a different story, a mess of anger and frustration in a neat package. She had no idea how to deal with Bakugou for an hour, imagine two or three. Arms crossed, her brow furrowed. "Well, then word your intentions correctly!"

"Look, fine, whatever." spat Bakugou. His red irises burnt against hers. "Kirishima wants the three of us to hang out, like, seeing some damn movies at the common room tonight. He said he thinks you're cool and stuff and he has never had the opportunity or some shit– and I still don't know why I'm fucking drawn to this plan, but whatever."

The prospect of a night with Kirishima sounded solid enough to her. It was true that they did get along and had never spent much time with each other. Clearly they could use some bonding time, even if it meant spending time with a potential psychopath. And don't get her wrong, she actually cares for Bakugou– but spending quality time with him sounded like a hard challenge.

However, it was weird that Kirishima himself hadn't come to her and asked himself.

Uraraka turned her head and searched for the redhead with her eyes– ah there he was, helping Tsuyu out with some strawberries. Oh, he was waving at her! Uraraka flashed a big smile and waved back, picking the basket up afterwards.

"Sounds like a good plan." answered she, and saw Bakugou deflate of relief. Did it really take that much effort to him to go and ask her? What a weirdo. "I'll be there. Just please make sure Kirishima doesn't pick extremely violent movies, or very cheesy ones."

"Does horror sound good? Or does the miss have any more requests?" his tone was so sarcastic and acid that the brunette was unimpressed, but feigned offense.

Uraraka frowned and spun around, chin high and pout present. "You can be such a pain sometimes, Bakugou."

His fist rose up to the air, the air around them dangerously heating up. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, ANGELFACE?"

Kaminari, who was walking by along with Jiro, sighed in resignation. "Not this again."

Uraraka still felt the ashen blonde following her, sensing his anger physically come out of his body, and turned around. His hands were closed in fists, as if he'd dare punch her in front of so many witnesses. "Horror sounds good. And please stop screaming."

Bakugou dug his feet in the ground, trying to be civil with his soon-to-be movie buddy. "Then stop bitching. I'll get some horror movies, or something– like I cared!"

She stomped her way to him and started throwing carrots to him. "If you didn't care why would you ask, you–?"

The carrots came back to her, hitting her on the face and dirtying her more if it was possible. "Watch who you're picking a fight with, you bitch!"

She was about to go and take out all his intestines, brains, hairs– just destroy him like she knew she could, make him go flying to some other dimension where is presence was required, when four arms came to seize her. "Uraraka-san, please stop the ruckus!" pleaded Deku, his grimace evident even when she couldn't see him.

Upon feeling his voice near her, she instantly calmed down. However, her eyes still wanted to eat the ashen blonde alive. "What nerve, to come attack me when he's the one inviting me over!"

Iida, the other restraint, pushed her back. Bakugou muttered something along the lines of a farewell and made his way to Kirishima and Tsuyu. Uraraka glared at his neck with a pointed look, growling. "That guy…" breath in, breath out. Once the boys felt her calming down, they slowly let go of her. Uraraka sighed. "Sorry for that."

Deku looked at her, impressed by her sudden outburst. And he wasn't impressed in a good way. In fact, Uraraka felt his disapproval in his eyes and she instantly felt ashamed. "What was all that about, Uraraka-san?"

She cleaned her uniform of any dust and growled. "Bakugou happened." once again, she picked her basket up. "And I'm just so tired of taking these from one place to another. He didn't choose a good moment to pick up on me."

Uraraka marched towards the truck where the veggies were being charged and just let the basket drop. She cleaned her forehead clean and looked ahead: there were still many portions of land to harvest, and everyone was working hard– she must do so as well, help and do her job! She rolled up her shirt sleeves and smiled to the horizon.

However, her face resulted in a heavily shadowed face with a smile and a frown, half mad at the explosive teen and half happy about the prospect of working with her friends.

Deku and Iida looked at each other, terrified of what their friend was up to.

And that's how this madness started.

* * *

When she saw what had been set up for the movie night, Uraraka had been mildly surprised.

The whole common room had been fullfilled with blankets, food on a table, the whole place was pristine and spotless – last party had been a bit of a mess, but controlled and surpressed after some time – and there was no extra windows closed, or any of them purposely open so bugs would get in the building– Uraraka _hated_ mosquitos. That's why the surprise was evident: she saw that Bakugou had remembered all that stuff about her and even carried it all out so she'd be pleased.

While putting another bowl of popcorn on the table, he squinted at her. She had stopped halfway, pinkish blanket in her hands and that stupid perplexed look on her face. " _What_."

She snapped out of her reverie and made her way to him, both alone in the room. The whole class had gone out in a special permission for a night out, Miss Midnight going with them to ensure their security and that they didn't consume any alarmingly toxic substance– because let's be clear, of course they'd drink some alcohol, but there was no need to take it further than that.

Bakugou had refused to go, the same as Uraraka, Iida and _Kirishima_ , surprisingly. Iida was too much of a legal guy to even go to the outing when he himself rejected the idea. Uraraka was just too tranquil for such jam-packed places, and Bakugou was pretty much the same. Kirishima must have stayed in favor of the movie night.

Which prompted the following question. Uraraka scanned the room warily, stark of any noisy redhead. "Uh, where is Kirishima?"

Bakugou stiffened at the question, and his ears turned red for some reason. She could clearly see them from her angle. "He decided to tag with those damn alcoholics, so it's just the two of us, I guess."

Wait.

 _What_.

"Wait, _what_?"

Bakugou looked at her, already frowning at her fidgety form. "What the fuck is up now, Uraraka?"

"Ah, no, everything's fine!"

Everything was _not_ fine. Uraraka had most certainly not signed up for a movie night with a guy who could clearly murder her if she dared to speak during a movie or if she dared sit too close to him– maybe even just breathe too loudly! Like, the prospect of hanging out with Bakugou on a regular basis wouldn't even startle her because she had always been able to see through him and she could handle his outbursts.

However, there was this big temporal difference between having a small conversation, a walk down a street– compared to something more _intimate_ and longer like a movie night. Well, not like they were going to do anything relatively important, but it was still a big step regardless.

What was she even thinking when she thought it'd be a good idea to have a night with King Explosion Murder? Why hadn't Kirishima warned her? What a jerk, that guy!

When he saw her make a constipated face, he just shrugged it off. She should've known what she had signed up for. Well, there was no way she would have known, but would Kirishima's presence made any real difference? Did Uraraka despise the explosive boy _that_ much? "Just come here and sit down already, angelface. Or I'll start the fucking movie without you and I _never_ , ever rewind."

Uraraka scurried to the couch, expectant to see what movie he had picked up. Suddenly, the idea that her fluffy pajamas, teddy bear and pink blanket were a bit too childish occurred to her. She threw her flippers under the sofa and jumped to the sofa near Bakugou, wrapped and bundled in a pink, fluffy– wait,

" _King of Doom_?" read she from his blanket, disbelievingly blinking and looking at him.

Bakugou just cuddled deeper into the blanket, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Shut the fuck up. Yours is a dumb blanket, bitch. At least mine is… _not_ pink."

Uraraka elbowed him, to which he responded by reflexively pushing her away. "You're so extra, Bakugou." commented she, searching for the remote. He proudly showed it to her. "You could be a generous guy for once in your life and give it to me."

His arms shot up, remote falling to the rug. "I'M ALWAYS GENEROUS, YOU DAMN BUBBLEHEAD!"

Uraraka picked the remote from the floor and hummed in approval. He leaned against the sofa's arm and got a good deal of pillows to support his mistreated back. Unbeknownst to him, the fact that so many pillows were piled up only made him be closer to her. The idea didn't put him at ease, but it didn't exactly bother him, either. He just sighed and waited for her to adjust the TV to her liking.

Watching Uraraka fiddle with the TV was a challenge for anyone's patience. She was rather clumsy when it came to any kind of gadget which possessed buttons– then, he guessed that maybe she wasn't allowed to touch many of these things because her quirk has a rather easy activation. But seeing her stumble so much around a general-knowledge gadget like a remote was… fascinating.

He looked at her dainty hands. They were round, pale, and deft. They also had those weird pads to activate her quirk, and he wondered: what would they feel like? It was an absurd question, but also a very important one.

He glanced at his over stimulated companion. This was going to be one eventful night. The first thing he should do was teach her how to use a remote properly. "Uraraka, what the fuck are you–?"

"I have sensitive eyes!" exclaimed she, her eyes gleaming under the room lamp. "I need to adjust the imbalances so it doesn't burn my eyeballs off!"

Bakugou sat up and rubbed his face, seeing that the screen coloring was just _not_ right. "For fuck's sake Uraraka, are you trying to blind us or something?" he reached out for the device. "Gimme that."

She adamantly refused to have the item stolen from her and just got up to avoid his hands touching anywhere near here. "Off-limits, sir! This is my territory!"

He got up as well and when he again, tried to get the goddamn thing, she refused. Bakugou had to chase her around the table before he sat down and screamed internally. She was making the screen be over saturated, overly contrasted and too bright. And woes betide if he doesn't end up throwing his eyes off the window to avoid such display of colors and sunshine.

Uraraka fought against the TV, but ended up giving the remote to the ever-so-perfectionist Katsuki Bakugou. "Here, have the thingy. I can't find the thing for the thing."

He blinked at her, disbelief written all over his features. That stupid girl was going to be the end of him. "Care to elaborate?"

"As in," she gestured to the screen. "an option to make the image sharper?"

Again, he sighed, and reset all options to 50. "Having the TV be a flash of fucking rainbows isn't healthy for either our eyes or our brain." he got up to gather all the movies he fetched that morning. Some had old boxes, others were brand new purchases. "I have a bunch here that are damn flashy."

She peeked a bit, interested. Bakugou then realized how close she was and coughed. She didn't notice his discomfort, only leaned in a bit closer and grabbed a few movies. "I don't know why you have that fucking dumb smile on, but you ain't deciding which movie we see first."

He got up to get his first started, ignoring her puffings and moans. "Why do you have to be so mean? You're the one who invited me over!"

Bakugou frowned, snarling already at her. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING FUCKING MEAN?" and he threw her the box of the movie, with all intention to hurt her on the head.

Instead, she grabbed the box in mid air and read the title of the movie they were watching. She rolled her eyes. "When I said you were extra I didn't mean _this_ extra." the box was waved in her hands. He glared at her. Furiously. "I was hoping for some decent movies."

"ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY _PICKS_? FIGHT ME YOU ROUNDFACE!"

In response, she threw the box back to him, effectively calming his tantrum. "Just put the film on, Bakugou. Unless you want me to choose movies instead?"

He stopped playing around and put the movie in, finally, but still fuming over the fact that she had dissed him so badly. He'd make her pay for that. After a few seconds he made it back to the couch, lying on the stack of pillows with his blanket wrapped around him. Uraraka eyed him closely. "I would have never guessed you were a blanket type of person, though."

His head snapped to hers. "I would have never thought you were so talkative during a fucking movie, you know."

Ah, that's what she was talking about. She sighed and got up to turn all the lights off. Once this was done, she hurried to the couch and jumped, bounced and got accommodated on it. Bakugou looked at her from the corner of his eye, seeing how she tried to find the right posture. The light of the TV made her look completely different, somehow.

"Stop fidgeting already." spat he. Uraraka froze. "Let's just watch the damn movie."

Yes, this was what had her so nervous about the movie ordeal. Because she usually had no problem with nobody, she was so uncomfortable now. She had never experienced such a rocky relationship as the one she had with Bakugou, with him being a douche and her not giving a damn. Was that what had him so worked up, that she was unfazed by his bites?

Uraraka eyed him while the movie started blasting, the main soon-to-be-killed protagonists rolling on the screen. She sighed. It was gonna be along night.

Deciding to try and be relaxed, Uraraka picked one of the massive bowls of popcorn, smelling the sweetness of butter all over the snack. She grinned and took a mouthful of popcorn– fuck. That was when all problems began.

As her fingers touched the snack, there was a dim pink glow in the bowl. She almost shrieked as the events unfolded according to her quirk nature, all in silence. The gravity manipulator glanced at her companion briefly, who didn't even suspect that something fishy was going on just a meter away from him. So, for the sake of a peaceful night, she held the popcorn in their place.

Fifteen minutes into the movie her hands started shaking, so the gravitational pull of the popcorn faltered for a second. One popcorn made its way out of her grip and, out of all places, landed on Katsuki's nose. The aforementioned felt the tap and growled, thinking it had been her trying to be funny. However, when he looked up, just for the sake of making sure there was nobody else around, his breath haltered.

"What the f–" all of the popcorn from the bowl had started to float in mid air, hovering near the ceiling and dangerously spread around them. He changed his question. "How the fuck did you do that?"

She started trembling. All options she had were to hold them in the air or let them go, scattering the little kernels all over the room and make a mess. Uraraka clenched her teeth. "My quirk… it just activates when I'm not mindful enough." whispered she. Uraraka dared to look at him despite the incoming disaster. Surprisingly, he didn't seem vexed at all.

If anything, he seemed amused. "Can't you just like, fucking gather it all together?"

They were aware of the movie blaring on the TV, and since Bakugou never rewinded or apparently stopped the goddamn movie, they'd be missing some of it. "I can make things float according to their… momentum." he nodded, still looking at the floating goodies. "If they have no prior movement, they won't move. Since they had been compressed into the bowl, they have gained slight momentum and spread around."

"Your quirk is goddamn crazy, you know." spoke he in the softest voice he would ever muster in such random circumstances. "How long has that been up there?"

Uraraka checked a clock nearby and made some quick calculations. "I'd say around twenty minutes, now."

"Shouldn't you be throwing your shit out?" she blinked at him, surprised he even knew about her quirk's limitations. "Yeah, don't gawk at me like I'm fucking dumb. I'm always hearing Deku mumble about how much you can handle shit floating and stuff."

"Shut up." that was Bakugou's usual line. It didn't fit her usual easy-going demeanor. "We have to get all of that down. Maybe if I lower them a bit we can gather them in the bowl altogether."

"Then hurry the fuck up. I don't wanna have you vomiting while we're watching the movies."

It turns out that having the popcorn in mid air, closer to the floor than the ceiling– it was a nightmare. Having the popcorn near the ground but not touching either meant that she had to hold them tighter so she didn't let go of the frail pull. To her, it was like carrying a bucket of water on her arms, or in this case, having to carry it with a long handle.

Bakugou though, was having the time of his life. While the popcorn were at shoulder length he spent a minute or two tapping them and watching how they clashed and moved around in silence, without rolling. And since they had no momentum limit due to his antics and pushes, they were starting to widespread all along the common room.

"Bakugou, for the love of god stop playing around, please."

"This is what you get for trying to mess with me before." stated he, stale, and starting to gather the popcorn in the bowl as if it was water. "Next time, watch who you're messing with."

Uraraka hissed. "You know I could perfectly drop them to the ground and let you there, picking every single one of them, right?"

"I'm damn aware." muttered he, almost done with the popcorn business. "Stop putting it as if I was a baby playing with sand, I got this."

She breathed in and glared at him, trying her best not to lose her concentration. The nerve of that guy… – however, she'd admit to herself that some of his antics were quite funny to her. Not everyday you saw somebody act so collected during such a crazy thing like making popcorn randomly float on air.

Like why had she–

Oh.

Oh.

Was it because Bakugou's character made her kinda, sorta, a little bit intimidated? Well, not intimidated but, a bit jumpy? He was a bit snarky, rude, so no one could expect much from him. He's so unpredictable.

Bakugou came back with the bowl full of popcorn, finding Uraraka staring at the nothingness of the floor beneath their feet. "Earth to roundface. What the fuck is wrong with that face of yours?"

Uraraka squirmed in her seat and propped her feet up the couch, completely covered by her blanket. Bakugou was by her again, deciding against the pillows this time, and sitting a little bit closer to her. The couch was particularly big, but the spot they were on was the best one to watch TV – it was common knowledge, so there were a few fights about who would take the magical spot.

This time though, they sat relatively close, sharing the spot. They weren't touching, but they were about a foot away, and the idea of proximity to a human furnace bode well with her. All they had to do was reach out and they'd be cuddling, sharing heat and–

Bakugou heard a disgruntled noise come from Uraraka – why was she feeling so flustered at the thought of cuddling with him? –, but paid no heed to anything but the movie. He had already lost the track of the movie for that damn bubblehead loser and he swore it wouldn't happen again. He did spare a glance at her anyway.

He came to a shocking realization. _"She's… pretty cute."_

When he had called her angelface during that fateful Sports Festival he had done it in the spur of the moment. He didn't really wanna dwell in his classmates' lives, he didn't give much a damn about them– as in, their lives, their problems, and stuff. He had enough to worry about with his career as a hero and his parents being… his parents. So, when he called her angelface, he did it considering her most special trait – in the same way he called Todoroki half-n-half, called Iida four eyes and Kirishima redhead loser/ass, whatever he came up with.

He hadn't actually considered that not only was she only cute, but she was also really pretty. At that moment he only saw a rival in her, a very weak one, at that. However, her beauty didn't only come from her pump cheeks, round eyes and flashy smile – he long ago realized, in a night of lots of thinking – no, it also came from her heart.

Yes, he would never forget the fact that she was close friends with the bastard, but he could forgive her.

Now that he thought about it, that nerd liked Uraraka as well, right? He also had come to know that some time ago, the thought was _so_ irritating– and he couldn't see why it was like that. Why did the notion of her liking that loser irk him so?

This was going to be a long night.

One hour into the movie and Uraraka was already swinging on the edge of the couch, knees under her chin and eyes fixated on the next scene.

And it had no reason to be that way, really. It turns out that the movie he chose really was not only extra, but _very_ boring one as well. Bakugou sat with crossed arms on the couch, fully sprawled on the sofa with the most irritated face one could pull at an unanimated object that shouldn't be doing any harm to him– but it was clearly vexing the poor teenager. He then glanced at Uraraka, and his irritation came back in tenfold. What was so good about that goddamn movie that had her so wound up?

"Bakugou, Bakugou!" called she, excitement clear in her voice. He rolled his eyes. "Are you watching?"

"No shit Sherlock." muttered he, rubbing his eyes. "It's an ass damned boring movie. You sure I was the one to pick this shit?"

Her eyes threw daggers at him, shoulders tense. She drew a bit closer to tap on his chest. "That's what you get for being a meanie to me earlier."

His fangs showed up, arms sprung up, claws out and he seized her by the neck with his arm, pounding her head with his fist over and over. "You were the one who said it was a bad movie before and you're fucking enjoying it now?" she yelped as he hit harder, frown knit in frustration. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Who is the meanie now!"

Uraraka bit on his arm and he hissed, like cats usually do, and drew away from her. "Don't get near me, you bully!"

Irony would get her for that later. Actually, not that late.

"Whatever you say, angelface." he said sullenly. But the faint smell of flowers and citrus had invaded his nostrils, he had noticed how frail her wrists were in his reach, or how soft her hair was. There was something about her, something so soft, intangible and–

" _KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_!"

While scurrying to the furthest point on the couch, the ever-so-predictable protagonist let out a loud, piercing scream that sent a shaking Uraraka back to his arms, absent-mindedly searching for a source of heat– an anchor after such shock. Her jaw was trembling in utter terror after such a high-pitched and sudden sound.

Bakugou, having the same emotional approach as a coconut, visibly recoiled from her touch. "What's gotten into you, you damn hysterical woman?"

Oh goodness, she was positively shaking. "It's just, I hadn't expected that at all and she was so loud, Bakugou!"

He gritted his teeth, brow shrunk in discomfort and all his physical awkwardness showing through his glaring irirses. "Well of course she'd be loud, this is a damn horror movie!" he hurried the blanket around her form so she'd stop trembling– it was so goddamn uncomfortable to see her like this, and he didn't know why. "This is what you asked me to get and I just fucking complied–"

"I just meant the scream, not the whole movie, you jerk!" Uraraka pouted and crossed her arms, her head turned from his. "At least I'm having the decency to watch it!"

Bakugou's feet flew to the couch and, suddenly, he was standing on top of the cushions, disbelief written all over his features. "WHO DID YOU JUST CALL JERK!?"

But Uraraka was already engrossed in the movie– his tantrum long forgotten, feet dangling from the couch and her hands grasping the sheets– it was weird to see her excited over something so tribal to him like a goddamn fictional movie. Finger to her lips, she shushed. "Shut it! The most important part of the movie is kicking in!"

His jumping came to a halt as he looked at the screen, still bouncing on the sofa a little. Since he had lost a good deal of argument with so much bickering and popcorn picking, the movie had lost all appeal to him. He frowned. "I don't see the fucking point in watching this forsaken movie if–"

"Bakugou." her hands reached out for his ankle, made contact and released his leg in a swift motion. "In nights like this, you know, you should just…" and then, he was weightless. "… _lighten_ up."

The ashen blonde groaned as loudly as possible, snarling at her. She didn't pay much attention to him, just went on watching the damn movie. Her lack of control over his gravity and his little momentum with his silly fit made him start hovering upwards. Bakugou grabbed the back pillows for dear life, feet up. "Uraraka, for fuck's sake."

Giggles aside, she was being too naughty for her own good. His jaw clenched as Uraraka turned to look up at him, holding in her laughter. He tried to make his way down to her, grasping the fabric of the couch with disdain. "Stop bitching around, for kicks and giggles?"

"You're the one who has to stop being a party pooper." stated she. Her eyes couldn't help but trace the way his figure looked so funny upside down. Also, he was pretty… muscular. And his biceps were making the effort to drag himself down, flexing. It was all sorts of appealing. "Besides, I now have more room on here to–"

The movie's main monster – also known from now on as weekly yelling jerk – boomed across the whole room and deafened Uraraka's ears, who shrieked and abruptly released Bakugou from his weightless status. There was a loud thud behind the sofa and a moan of pain, making her flinch and look behind, slightly concerned.

"Sorry! It's just–"

Out of the blue, he was already on his feet, hands on his waist and a scowl deep enough to make the very same monster run away. "Yeah, I know, your fucking quirk playing games again."

He jumped to the cushions again and eased the blanket around him, still mad at her for trying to float him out of the room. Instead of focusing his energies in being mad at her – even if he wanted to make her suffer endless pain for ruining what he thought would be a great movie night, with or without her in silence – Bakugou tried to stay put, be calm and focus on the movie.

It turns out they were heading towards the climax building. There was this silent, subtone music wrapping the scene while the protagonists made their way through a bleak – obviously there was someone there, but he would never be such a douche and spoil such surprising bit to her – dark cave. Despite the fact that Bakugou had already watched the very same film with his parents once a long time ago and despite knowing where their stride would lead up to, he was unsettled with the scene.

He eyed his previously thrilled and edgy friend to find her scrunched up in fear, and shockingly near him. Their shoulders were barely touching, hers mildly quivering against his quieter posture. Her hands grasping the sheets to her heart in interest, irises wavering in tension while she just– her body was shaking again, she was fidgeting with so much tension in the air, her teeth were clattering, maybe? and she would start bouncing to and fro anytime soon.

Before such lame thing happened, she started inching closer to him, her citric scent taking over all his senses. Bakugou felt her shoulders finally collide with his and he snapped. "Oi, what the–"

She most likely wasn't even realizing how close she was until he opened his damn mouth. However, if this newfound arrangement annoyed her, it went unnoticed. Uraraka just glared at him for less than a second and continued her self-torture. Her arms were encircled around her knees, panic setting on her pretty round features, with the blanket loosely hanging to her hunched form. Most importantly, she was leaning into the explosive teen, the very same boy who could blow her away– that is, if he wanted to.

The thing is, he wasn't exactly uncomfortable with their position. He wasn't exactly tranquil with the painful pace of the movie, nor the tense music or his shaking mate beside him. Her head was stuck to his shoulder– his very comfy and warm shoulder, forearms touching, hairs tangling together and sharing warmth.

The very same notion of proximity, warmth and sweetness was so _Uraraka_ , it was overwhelming him to the point of mental shutdown. He was severely torn between giving her a good push so this weird fuzzy sensation would _stop_ and pulling her closer.

Regardless the option he chose, none were going to help the situation that Uraraka, that woman who could pull buildings off their own foundings and also be smiling in the process and that girl who was unfazed by his rash behavior, that stupid girl that was tiptoeing into his heart in the most bizarre of ways– that girl was leaning on him, warming him up, and almost hogging him at this point.

Honestly, he had to either embrace the feeling or push her out of his zone– shrugging it off wasn't an option anymore with such colossal blush adorning his cheeks.

The response was instantaneous. "What– Bakugou?"

He shuffled her closer to him, his blanket thoroughly wrapped around both of them. There was a toxic mixture of her sweet fragrance and his rainy spark inside the blankets, but it was completely fine by him. His arm around her shoulders– oh she was so small compared to him, now he noticed – kept her close.

He used said arm to shush her with its belonging hand. "Shut it. I wanna hear the movie, bitch."

Uraraka stifled a giggle under her breath – after all he couldn't call her bitch if he was keeping her so close. It was a weird discovery to see him so calm with sharing his personal space after having almost winced at her presence an inch nearer than usual. Well, it did ease the tension from the movie and gave her a strange feeling of peace. He was undeniably warm, strong muscular arms keeping her near and not far for a change, and his husky breathing– oh no.

She didn't sign up for this! Her hands tried to hide the evident red in her face to no avail. Recount: she had King of Doom Bakugou Katsuki by her side, finally engrossed in a movie with her, pulling her as close as he deemed healthy, in the most proximate concept of cuddling that he'd ever consider carrying out.

So, she had two options: welcome the blush, his warmth and intimate, finally cool and rare behavior– or gently move away.

A part of her raged over his proximity and dared to try and throw away all of Bakugou's developments socially speaking, and reject all the good things that came with this close version of cuddling.

Uraraka obviously decided against such outrage and moved closer, his arm adjusting to the idea of side hugs and her enjoying every moment of it, her head cradled on his neck while she paid attention to the show as he was doing, because his eyes seemed to be absorbing the movie like a sponge and, meanwhile, she had been so busy musing over cuddles that she wasn't grasping the plot of the movie.

Look, none of them were really paying attention to the movie– they had never had such intimate contact with anybody, especially cuddles. It was all sorts of alluring and embarrassing. Bakugou was struggling to keep himself in check. Uraraka though, her mind was at the verge of short-circuiting itself.

" _Am I seated in a good position? Do I smell? Is he completely alright with this? Maybe I am in a position that is uncomfortable for him and he isn't comfy enough, but how do I ask him if he's so focused on the movie and"_ her trail of frantic thinking came to a halt when she felt his muscles stiffen– they were a kiss away _"is he ok? why is he so tense? oh no, he must be so un–"_

"Yo," whispered he, his breath fanning across her sensible ears. He sure wasn't aware of the impact he had on her, but Uraraka, her mad blush and the goosebumps on her skin sure felt his presence. She was about to explode. "are you ok with this?"

The way he worded it made it seem like a much more important deal – well, maybe for him, it _was_ a big deal. She curtly nodded and buried herself in his smell and warmth, not a bead of sweat apparent on her pale skin or a drop of awkwardness issuing from her approving hum. It wasn't uncomfortable physically-wise, but his closeness was stirring all kind of clashing and incoherent emotions inside her little being.

" _Girl, stop fretting over this."_ mental slap. _"Focus on the movie and enjoy the boy. After all, as soon as the night ends, you'll be on the same level as before."_

Uraraka tried to make herself more comfortable, and his body – surprisingly, considering how inconsiderate he was most times – shifted along with hers, relaxing under her form on the back cushions. Fuck, he had expected the night to go as two friends watching a bunch of movies, no contact needed unless it was something major– but it had turned into two friends watching a bunch of movies, with her cuddling and suffocating him with her presence.

Worst of it all – admitted he all along, while he saw the scenes roll by with an unfocused stare – was that he was enjoying every second of it. This was, probably, the toughest decision he had made so hard that day and it was, by far, the best one he had made all his life. Having someone tucked under his arms had never sound appealing to him, not even once in his life. In spite of the startle of her proximity the first time, he had grown accustomed to it.

They moved closer to each other, her brown hair sprawled all over his shoulder and his skin feeling the warmth of hers, as if she was some kind of neat, nice and aromatic tea cup, dampening his insides in that electric, relaxing and overly light feeling of floating, his head floating out the door and leaving a happy man behind. Somehow, he was sure she felt it too, that _shift_.

His eyes abandoned the climax of the film to look at the crown of her head, accommodated on the crook of his neck– and it felt so right, to have her there, so close, safe, as if the whole world had faded away into a variety of grays and she was the only color in the room, shining straight into his heart and shattering his fears into smithereens, melting them and making them fly away to another place, another time– somewhere where they didn't exist, where they wouldn't be a burden.

His hand, previously hanging loose in front of her, brushed an unkempt tress of hair like a sailor cleans its boat: carefully, sincerely, and almost unconsciously. Of course she felt it– oh, she felt it so fast, her neck almost snapped when she titled her head to look at his red, fierce staring irises. Their breathing went erratic, getting stuck in weird places of their throats and their stomachs lurching in a delicious manner.

Yes, she definitely felt the tweak in the air. Not shift, not a blunt change– just a tweak.

Her brown pools blinked slowly, trying to make words out of his shaking eyes, those who always reflected proud feelings, his anger burning all around her– all but her, that girl who never jumped at his remarks, who he was a bit weak for, the woman who never burnt with the others and faced him all the time.

Interest had been there all the time, that's for sure. But did such passion in his eyes, such cracks on his armor, the tenderness and approval; had it all existed before? Now he realized what he had really called her over for, and what the outcome had been. Bakugou couldn't brush her away so fast though– not when he had dived so deep into the waters of her incandescent skies of brown.

His head, ever so slowly, made its way towards hers, shifting her form so she had better angle to move closer, her lips starting to part, eyes closing. Her breath was crossing his, mixing, tangling them together and pulling the cuddling pair even closer than before, their hearts soaring– his lungs breathed deep, and then, his hand grasped her neck, fingertips brushing the ends of her hair, and then, their lips inched closer, and closer, and–

" _Yo, guys_!"

Uraraka straight headbutted him in surprise, and they recoiled from each other with a disgruntled noise of pain and grief, feeling the catastrophic presence of Kirishima by the elevator. Uraraka spared a glance at Bakugou – who had turned into a blushing, raging mess of frustration and lack of self-control – and finally looked at her redhead friend.

"Good evening, Kirishima!" called Uraraka, grinning at her friend. She was so glad he decided to come in the end! "I thought you had gone to the party with the others…"

Kirishima wasted no time on sitting by Uraraka, squeezing her between him and a glaring Bakugou. "Nah, I ended up deciding to come with you guys. I'm so happy you're still in one piece, Uraraka."

The redhead chucked, and a vein on Bakugou's head popped. Uraraka was beaming, though. "That's great, I'm so glad you could finally make it here!"

The ashen teenager's heart stopped beating. After such close call with Uraraka his heart had been beating hysterically, but it just snap stopped when he heard her. Kirishima blinked at her, confused. "Huh, _finally_?"

Thank goodness the brunette was too believing for her own good. She gripped her blanket to her neck, footprints of her cuddling plus that something with Bakugou pinking her cheeks. "Bakugou-kun told me you were leaving with the others, so you wouldn't be coming with us to the movie night like planned. I was so disappointed that you wouldn't be coming when you were the one to invite me over!"

Again, Bakugou froze. Kirishima blinked at her and had this brilliant idea of looking at his best friend. He was looking– glaring at him, one eye twitching and an alarming amount of teeth showing beneath his snarl. "Movie night?" his eyes fell on how close they were to each other, how the blonde was still blushing, and the clench of his fists. "Oh."

Kirishima smirked at Bakugou, understanding how he had made her come to his makeshift buddy movie night. _"Sneaky bastard."_

And the funniest part was that he had been theoretically invited to the movie night, but he was at the same time clearly not invited to the movie night considering how Bakugou was mentally plunging daggers in his heart, twisting it, and bringing him all sorts of pain for interrupting such special moment with her.

His smirk only got wider. So interesting.

When Kirishima dragged his bastard ass towards her and swung his arm around her shoulders so casually, Bakugou saw red. "I ended up cancelling the outing plan for you guys, to come to _our_ movie night." Uraraka rose her fist in victory. "I see you have finished this movie already?"

Their eyes glanced at the static screen, credits already having rolled long time ago. The girl blushed, realizing that they had spent so much time gawking at each other that they had missed the ending of the movie. Bakugou gritted his teeth and got up to change movies, grabbing the first one he had at reach.

Kirishima turned to her. "I take it it's been a good night so far." the ashen blonde mumbled something to himself that his friends didn't catch. " You guys must have been comfortable with so many pillows and blankets." Kirishima knew where to hit next. "Can we share blankets, Uraraka? I forgot to bring mine."

Bakugou's back straightened, frown getting deeper and deeper. He made the TV eat the damn movie with a slam. He wasn't jealous.

"Of course we can, Kirishim–!"

"Actually," deadpanned the explosive teen, making his peers turn to him. "you can have mine, Kirishima."

Uraraka was startled by what was to come, knowing what he was aiming for. Kirishima smiled knowingly at him – his arm remained wrapped around her nonetheless. Oh, how he loved teasing him so much. The moment he came into the room and saw them so close, he knew that his stay would be doomed with Bakugou's glare. And that very moment he interrupted must have been very important, too.

"Are you sure, man?" asked the other, looking at the abandoned blanket by Uraraka. He chuckled. "Sorry, I meant _King of Doom_. How could I forget, _your majesty_."

Like he always did when his name was spit on, Bakugou turned around and started bawling at him like a maniac. "Oi, watch your damn mouth, redhead loser!"

Uraraka shifted closer to Bakugou's empty place, afraid of what pointy object he'd throw at him and how his aim could backlash when his temper got the best of him. "Don't get so worked up, man! It's your blanket who is speaking for me."

Bakugou threw him a decorative ornament he found nearby, hitting his friend on the forehead, who groaned. Seriously, this guy could be pretty decent and all when needed, but he was also a total brute sometimes.

The blonde gave him the final _we-have-to-talk-later_ glare and made his way to Uraraka, who had ended up nestling herself near Kirishima while the movie got started. Her blanket was still in her hands, and he'd be damned if he lost his cool again to her for the second time in a row. _No way_ he would ask her for a blanket he didn't even need, because the movie itself sounded promising and well, she also looked comfy in her own burrito arrangement.

Her eyes peeked at him for a second. Sensing his discomfort after their little bubble had been burst by Kirishima's arrival, she nudged him with an elbow. Bakugou, with crossed arms and a neutral look on his face, watched her offer him a part of her blanket, a suggesting smile sketched on her pale, brilliant and childish traits.

The blanket ended up spread wide on them, a little bit short on his end. He grunted at her as a response and looked at the movie. His fingers nervously tapped on the couch's arm as he glimpsed at his friends, unable to stop thinking about this– distracted by how she was shifting towards Kirishima and not _him_ , how her head was angled towards him in low chatter and the way their knees brushed whenever she shifted– fuck, he wasn't jealous, but Kirishima knew he'd be pissed if he was so touchy with Uraraka and he was doing it all on purpose.

So he did the most proper thing: glare the shit out of his best friend, who was still hugging Uraraka and didn't even give signs of acknowledgement– then he turned his head and saw those piercing eyes of his, again pouring all his anger and hate onto his poor best friend. Muscles tense in agitation, eyebrows still twitching in possession towards that little girl who leaned too much towards the movie in expectation, her smile widening with every flash of light.

Kirishima felt, for once, truly afraid of his friend. Bakugou's arm hung on the back cushions, a ghost hug for her over-stimulated form. Something interesting was going on in the movie, but Bakugou was too irritated by his friend's arrival to care about the goddamn kissing scene in that low-key horror movie. His hands reached behind Uraraka's leaning form to grasp at Kirishima's pointy locks, growling in silent warning:

" _Go an inch nearer."_ his teeth shone to the white light of the TV, making him look dangerous– more than usual. _"Go an inch nearer and you're fucking dead, loser."_

Kirishima squinted at him in exasperation– was it really such a big deal that he was bonding with Uraraka? Geez, he might have arrived in the worst of times, but that didn't make him a criminal! Bakugou continued pulling his hair behind a totally unsuspecting Uraraka, her eyes still bathing and dampening on the romanticism of the scene.

Before their silent bickering went noticed, Bakugou decided to mutter something about a kitchen, water, and Kirishima. The female was too wrapped in the scene to even notice their tantrum, so they left without being noticed– maybe that's why dragging his best friend out of the zone and into a much more dangerous one with glass and knives was so easy for Bakugou.

There was a loud thud against a counter and the sound of wood cracking under a certain boy's smoking hands.

"What are you doing here, you red punk?" muttered the ashen blonde, all but content smile showing his beast fangs. "I thought you'd be sulking up there like a moron over that alien girl's whereabouts. Who the fuck invited you here!"

Kirishima crossed his arms, serious this time. There was no humor or glee in his always light voice, which now sounded chapped and slightly concerned. "You, apparently."

That did the trick and shut him up, hands in his pockets and fuming because his friend was right. The redhead sighed. "What is going on here, Bakugou? Why are you with Uraraka, alone…"

There was a rapid blush spreading throughout Bakugou's wincey face in a second. His hands grabbed the cracked surface, wanting to burn stuff again with scorching fervor. There was this wicked spark in his eyes after being busted so badly. "Get your mind out of the gutter, you bastard. Stop looking at me like I tried to rape her or something."

However, based on the mysterious glint of his irises when his eyes diverted to her relaxed body on the couch, something akin to desire was crossing his mind. And Kirishima obviously saw it crystal clear.

"You two kissed, didn't you?"

Kirishima was against the counter a second later, shirt fisted in a furious Bakugou's hands. "What the fuck are you insinuating, you loser!?"

"Ah, so you did."

"We _didn't_!"

"But you wanted to, anyway, right?" Kirishima effortlessly freed himself from Bakugou's grip, who growled and looked back at him. The booming of an action scene echoed all the way to them, but Uraraka – he was unconsciously peeking at her from his friend's shoulder – didn't even flinch at the flashy thing. "You seemed rather uptight when I dropped by."

The blonde sighed. "We were going to… yeah." the _k_ word was too much for him to handle without losing his tough appearance in front of that nerd.

Kirishima tapped his index finger against his chin, deep in thought. "So, it's been going on for a while, hasn't it?"

"Huh?"

"You've liked her for long, I reckon."

Bakugou's heart set on fire, his tremor climbing all the way to his wrinkled brow and pumped up cheeks. "WHAT ARE YOU–"

A hand was slapped to his hand to stop the rant before Uraraka heard their heated discussion. "Don't make a fuss out of this. I'm just stating the obvious." Bakugou blinked at him in a perplexed stare. "It's a bit evident you treat her differently – and well, seeing how much of a douche you are to mostly everyone, how you're attentive of her sometimes and… _this_ thing you had going on with her."

The blonde's back was turned to the other male, tense in irritation. Kirishima could hear the frown in his voice, his back muscles stiff after such bold statement. "Fuck off already, Kirishima."

The other chuckled, unfazed by his brash friend. "But I'm not wrong, am I?"

A pair of seconds passed, then a whole minute. Then, Bakugou's back deflated. The male turned, a troubled look in his face. He didn't look like your cool average Bakugou– he seemed actually affected by the issue.

"I invited her over to… kinda understand whatever fucking thing I feel for angelface." Kirishima encouraged him to continue with a nod, arms crossed and a pleasant surprise evident in his gentle smile. "I felt awkward around her at first but… I got the hang of it very easily. I didn't feel like I was being a sucker by being nice to her. It was a pleasant feeling."

Bakugou sat on a stool and rubbed his face with a hand to relieve stress. "So, you _do_ like her, huh?"

The explosive teen's eyes travelled to Uraraka's brown mess of hair at the sofa, who stared at the movie with intention. His scowl faltered. "I enjoy being with her, but not in the same way as I do rarely enjoy your fucking pestering." Kirishima dramatically grasped his shirt for dear life. "Her smile is cheesy as fuck, and she has that thing she does with her chubby ass fingers– and she never fucking shuts up. Also her eyes twinkle when something exciting happens, somehow. She's stubborn as a motherfucker, too."

Kirishima dared to ruffle Bakugou's hair, earning him a menacing glare. The other laughed good-naturedly. "I guess that's Bakugou talk for: _I like Uraraka in such a frustrating way that I feel slightly intimidated_."

"What is most fucking frustrating" still looking at her from afar, Bakugou put his head on his hand, elbow on the counter. He snarled loudly. "is that she's always drooling for that good for nothing quirkless bastard."

His swearing was filled with so much rage that Kirishima whistled, lowly. "Sounds rough, buddy." his face brightened for a second, finger shot up. "Hold on, didn't you two almost kiss back there?"

The explosive teen growled again. "It means fucking nothing. We were almost cuddling, it was bound to happen." he ignored Kirishima's scandalized blush. "Besides, you didn't give her time to step back. Thanks for that, loser."

"I'm not sure if that's an honest expression of gratitude, but you can be a sarcastic bastard when you really want to." he was the one to ignore Bakugou's face of utter ire after that insult. "But whatever the case, we don't know if Midoriya-kun likes her back, in case she actually _has_ the hots for him."

"Are you fucking messing with me? You haven't seen her around him then, blind ass. Maybe it was painfully evident before, but it still lives within her stupid, bubbly and bitchy self."

"And how would you know if you live in a bubble outside the human emotional spectrum? I've never seen you being that emphatic or analytical before."

Bakugou sighed. "It may be because, despite the fact that I am _undeniably_ tough, I care for her." he instantly checked if Uraraka gave any signs of having heard him. Apparently, she didn't. "I've had people talking about her stuff at Gunhead like fanatics, it's hard to ignore she has more value than some sorry asses at our class. I'm not constantly fawning over her whereabouts like you with alien girl," Kirishima blushed at that. "but as somebody I respect and someone I enjoy fighting with, I do worry about her wellbeing."

"I can't believe you are a jerk even when talking about a girl like Uraraka." before the other snapped at him, he cleared his point. "You can't really say much about such stuff without hyperventilating or getting irritated with your own softness, so I guess you're trying hard."

"No matter how hard I try to be more open," it was incredible she couldn't feel such burning stare on her. Bakugou truly was an animal. "it doesn't change the fucking fact that she's obviously infatuated with the brat. And I can't see what she sees on him that I ain't have."

Kirishima eyes his friend warily. "Feelings, care and sanity, maybe?"

It was clearly a joke, but Bakugou would never see that with such sensitive matter at hand. "You aren't fucking helping, Kirishima."

The other chuckled. Seeing his friend so worked up over a topic like love was hilarious. "It doesn't matter if he's got bad things though, she's always looking at everyone's virtues. The same goes for you man."

"Are you telling me she sees me like a fucking god or something?"

"Of course not." clarified Kirishima, sitting down on another stool in front of Bakugou. They were taking too long in getting what they had classified as glass of water. "But if she saw the version that everyone sees in you, she wouldn't be with you right now. I'm pretty damn sure that most of our class would run away at the prospect of a night with you. But she's there, dude. She's constantly pushing you to become a better person. She's not your regular classmate."

Bakugou murmured to his hand something akin to "You bet she isn't."

Kirishima looked at her too. She seemed calm at last, "She's something special, dude. I can't tell if she likes you or not, but I can tell you that Uraraka doesn't do anything she doesn't want to. She's not that kind of girl."

The explosive boy continued to stare at her, trying to decipher the big mystery that she was. Kirishima's words were heard as a far-off voice. "She'll always see the good in you. If she's still willing to spend time with you despite your foul attitude, perhaps she actually wants to bond with you."

Bakugou glanced at his friend, still troubled. "She seemed awkward at first, though." not that much, really, but he was trying to get his hopes up for what would be a disaster.

"As anybody would be. This thing you two have here isn't any kind of everyday routine, y'know. And I know for a fact that she cares for you no matter how stupid you can be sometimes." Bakugou didn't seem to be listening, focused on the girl, but Kirishima carried on. "Just try to be there for her and make her realize that you can be pretty cool, too."

"I'M ALWAYS COOL, YOU DAMN LOSER!" yelled he in a whisper, seizing his neck in a livid grip. "And I can be as softie and stupid as that quirkless bastard, or more!"

Kirishima rose his hands in protest, sweat pouring from his forehead. "That's not what I meant!" Bakugou let him go with a light push, sulking in his seat. "What I'm trying to tell you is that you have to highlight those virtues you have, and make her see your value the same way you kinda see _hers_."

"So I have to be an overly bright version of myself? Like, be made of cotton candy and stuff?" he grumbled, frowning. "Not gonna happen. I ain't losing my chill for her that badly."

"Dude, I'm not telling you to go on full on her, or become someone else. If there's a chance she likes you, acting differently will drive her away." Kirishima sighed at his friend's stubbornness to see that he was trying to help, that this issue didn't need any embroiled solutions. "Just try to give her a bit of attention, listen to her for a bit. It's not as difficult as it seems."

Bakugou eyed him like he was the pest. It wasn't a look Kirishima received often. "You're telling me to fucking listen to all that crap about Deku she may want to say?"

"I seriously hope you don't think that you're destined to always hear what you wanna hear, because we sometimes have to face unpleasant issues – either because of necessity or just because someone vents their feelings on you."

His head turned to him, brows furrowed. " _'The fuck_ does vent mean?"

Kirishima shook his head. "Of course you wouldn't know what such an emotion-charged word would mean."

"Whatever." Bakugou got up and padded to the sofa. "I just hope this bitch won't come moaning about Deku or I'll–"

Kirishima crashed with Bakugou's back and moaned of pain. He looked at the couch afterwards. "What the hell, man– oh, this is new."

Or course Ochako Uraraka would fall asleep on the couch after such a long conversation. Of course the most sleepish person would fall asleep in the middle of a movie night after such hard work on the harvest activity. The blonde's fist hit the back cushions, teeth clenched after wasting such a valuable night with her because of–

His glare landed on his best friend. "Don't you dare blame me for this."

Bakugou sighed/growled and approached her. "We can't have her sleeping here, or she'll get a back ache or something." mumbled Bakugou, picking her up. He had wanted to carry her on his shoulders, but decided against it just in case she woke up. Instead, he picked her up and carried her bridal-style.

"Yo, let me take a pic of this milestone moment–"

" _Don't you fucking dare_." spat Bakugou, walking to the lifts. "Wait here or– whatever, knock yourself out."

Kirishima buried himself in Uraraka's girly blanket and Bakugou's one with a content smile. Both smells blended in before the redhead's nostrils as he rewinded the movie on the screen. "I'll be waiting for you here, _darling_!"

Hadn't it been for sleeping beauty in his arms and he would have sent Kirishima flying to another dimension, somewhere with no possibilities to come back to him. Kirishima was a good guy, but he was a handful to deal with at times like these. The little ding of the elevator made him advance faster so he'd get away from his teasing, prying eyes.

Bakugou groaned once he was inside. Because this little girl was a reckless bitch who worked herself to exhaustion and she didn't know when to fucking stop, and also because she had him wrapped around her weird fingers– now, he was stuck with her. He gave her a few shakes, musing over how light she fucking was and how that somehow worried him. Her tresses were disheveled to the point of being a case of bed hair, skin smooth and flawless, her plump lips parted in slow breaths.

She looked like a princess taken out from his wildest dreams, a little girl in rags who didn't need saving or a man by her side to protect her value– all of her was a treasure, he knew. Somewhere along the way he came to see her shining through the bars of his heart, melting the ice around it and squeezing all the air out of it. It was such a sick, venomous but sweet grip she had on him, he tried to relish on her attention, every single one of her eye lashes, and her shattered breath on his neck.

He knew– the crash after the fall would hurt him eventually, the dread closing in and making his heart do all sorts of things, none of them natural. But for now… he just drew her close and stepped out of the lift, finding himself alone in the girls' corridor at the fourth floor.

His steps were like ghosts in a cemetery. The eerie silence around him made him feel slightly intimidated, accustomed like he was to the loud chatter of his classmates all over the corridors. The lack of sounds wrapped around him like the warm air of a dark night on a meadow, alone and blind. It was all sorts of unnerving, but he had been through worse things.

Luckily for him, Uraraka had left the door unlocked, so all he had to do was give it a light push and make his way to her bed in the middle of the dark. He had only been to her room once or twice, but he knew how she had set it all up. His feet made out the outline of her rug, dodged the nasty table in the middle of his path, and gently lay her down on her bed. He opened the futon to cover her and tucked her in with utmost care.

There was a dim streak of light coming from the corridor, landing on a side of her face in a orange hue, making her glow in a strange way– his heart throbbed inside his chest, beating out of cadence and failing to let him leave or take his eyes off her. Bakugou gulped, nervous for once in his goddamn life, hands trembling as he gingerly took her face, fingerpads caressing the mountain of her rosy cheek, and took in her sleeping form. For once, she wasn't moving, talking, fussing over anybody or making shit float.

Somehow, the very thought of her in such motionless state irked him, stirring all kind of twisting feelings in his already tangled heartstrings. Without thinking, his lips kissed the holy skin of her forehead in a mere brush that lasted a pair of seconds, but it sent his heart on a wild soar of euphoria. In a way, he felt repaid for the prior interrupted kiss fiasco, and the little secretive smile on his face proved how important that woman was to him.

And he'd get that kiss back someday – as soon as she realized that he could give the world if she so desired, he'd scoop her in his arms and kiss the air out of her, thrill rippling through his veins and eyes shining–

That girl was turning him into a poodle of love and goo. He couldn't lose his chill in front of her so easily. He gave her cheek another caress and brushed some lost strands of hair from her face before walking back, his back turned to her so he wouldn't crave into the urge of staying with her an make sure she was officially having a good sleep. Bakugou took his leave lighting fast, flexing his arms a bit so the soreness would wear off, and closed the door with a little click.

Sweat beads strode down his temple after such intimate moment. "That was a fucking close call."

He silently strode down the hallway, step proud and his lunatic smile automatically on after melting for a few minutes. Yet, after exiting the elevator and hearing the TV blaring on the background his mood completely descended to the fires of Hell, down below the Earth and entering a whole new dimension– his bubble burst as he made his way to the couch, teeth clenched in a tight fit, the high from the kiss wearing off.

Needless to say, his lovely, peaceful and eventful night with Uraraka turned into a mess of screaming, rage and deadpanning with Kirishima.

* * *

Sunset rolled in fairly soon that day. Yuueii had been cursed with a hot day full of battling, physical activity and tons of heated swearing from the classes' number one lunatic. Of course it's Bakugou, who else would it be?

The poor boy hadn't had much more than a blink of sleep, and in all honesty, it wasn't his fault. Kirishima couldn't keep his mouth shut if he wasn't sleepy enough or just plain tired. He had been working in the harvest the day before, but that guy had too much energy for his own good. That bubble head, though…

Bakugou glared at her from the classroom doorway while she spoke with Deku heatedly, both smiling and laughing at some _stupid_ joke he did and no– no, Bakugou wasn't jealous, jealousy was for little babies and he was no baby whatsoever. But the nerve of that guy, blatantly flirting with with her movie buddy in the very same place! Ugh, disgusting.

The ashen blonde _did_ notice how something about Uraraka was off, and it was so obvious – or either he had become attentive of her after his heart to heart with Kirishima – that it vexed him that the bastard wasn't paying attention. Was his world so narrow that the lack of spark in her eyes, how that big smile of hers never reached her eyes, or the lackluster of her cheeks– all of that, went unnoticed?

Bakugou frowned at the pair, feeling Todoroki's stare from behind him, who was casually leaning on the wall. The blonde was extremely aware of the thousand conspiracy theories going on inside half-n-half's brain, but he didn't care as much as he cared about Uraraka and that bastard.

"You should stop stalking her, you know." spoke the calm teenager, stale and dry as sincere and good-intended. There was a crack on the door, and a growl. "You will end up being discovered."

His conversation with Kirishima suddenly started playing on repeat in his fried brain, making him jump into wrong and misplaced conclusions. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A STALKER, YOU NERD? And what has Kirishima actually told you about me!? Shut it!"

Of course Kirishima hadn't told him anything, and of course this seemed like a big, big issue for Bakugou, so Todoroki let it pass with an indifferent stare at his companion's shaking back. He was livid at the pair of lovebirds. His display of pure rage and childish internal fits was pleasing to the eye– finally Bakugou would be frustrated at something with an _actual_ reason.

Midoriya appeared on the doorway a minute later and he was scared shitless after seeing Bakugou's deformed expression of anger and fixation on making the poor boy's life miserable as hell. With his fearsome features still scrunched in such murderous intentions, he watched Deku trail behind Todoroki's unaffected stride.

He calmed down a little and turned around to see Uraraka staring at him intently. Bakugou jumped a feet behind. "What the fuck, angelface! What's the sneaky business for?"

"I was about to ask you the same." her head titled to a side, and he had the urge to do the same for the sake of bonding. "Do you need anything?"

Bakugou watched the spark in her eyes flicker into nothing, her eyes darker than he had ever seen them. She was shamelessly smiling despite the hidden turmoil she was going through after last night– remembering that night only made her blush and start fidgeting with her fingers. And god, how he hated seeing her so uneasy around him. Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest, sensing that something was wrong.

"You fell asleep last night." stated he, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Uraraka immediately jumped again, remembering how comfortable the blankets around her had felt and how her world had faded before the boys came back to her. "I'm terribly sorry about that! I was just too tired and–"

"I don't give a fuck about you being tired." the gravity bender blinked at him, startled by his sudden outburst. "Don't do that again. It's damn annoying."

When he turned around to leave, hunched over and mumbling about her being too much of an unnecessary hassle, she saw the meaning of his words. Her breath wavered and she felt lightheaded out of the blue. "Hold on, again?"

His steps haltered as he turned around, an unreadable expression in his face. "We're repeating this movie night stupidity again. I _never_ leave business undone." the brunette stared blankly at him, flabbergasted after such brutal honesty. "You fell asleep halfway through the night. You ain't escaping this so easy."

As he turned to leave again, she took a few steps in his direction. "W-Wait, I may be late!" Bakugou groaned and spun around to face her, nearing a dangerous edge between being relatively calm and indeed mad at her. "I have some stuff… to do…"

She started, _again_ – he was suffering while seeing her so shrunk – doing the thing with the fingers. Her eyes were downcast, hair shadowing her roundy, kissable cheeks. The world around her was covered in a static of blacks and whites, the only color around her being the red of Bakugou's eyes and his burning stare– his white skin, the golden of his jacket, or the pearls of his teeth and the tremble of his lips upon seeing her so shaken up.

And she didn't want to leave, feeling so drawn to the animal in front of her, the animal that had consumed her feelings so easily.

Something was writhing inside. Her mind had always been a clear slate of purity, pristine and transparent feelings showing in her big eyes of illusion and wonder. Yet, after so long, while her feelings remained unchanged, there had been a twitch in her heart. It had reactioned– it had beaten for the first time in years right before last night, and hadn't stopped beating ever since.

What was with this change? Why did she feel unchanged, yet so disturbingly deceived at the same time? Uraraka knew where her heart stood, but did her heart wanna be there? Was it the best option? This adrenaline– this corrosive feeling of thirst and desire after his lips had brushed hers… why was it dampening her resolve? Why…

Why was she so _frustrated_ with herself when she still loved another man?

Somehow, the relief of generalization sounded petty at best. She faced Bakugou again. "But I'll try to be there as soon as possible!"

Bakugou approached her and stood dangerously near to her. He looked at her, eyes stabbing hers in a menace, but it somehow ended up being a low warning more than a straight-up murder threat. He stared down at her, brown orbs shining to his. "Don't be late or you'll be fucked."

The burning notion of an unrequited love weighed him down, too.

With that, he parted to his dorm to think about the mental consequences of having an undeniably cute girl in your dorm for a night. Meanwhile, with her afternoon plans still beating hard in her mind, something bigger and foreign throbbed inside– something akin to those things she had experienced with that boy in the past but had experienced last night with this man.

And her heart wouldn't stop hammering.

"If I love Deku so much…" her hand flew to her mouth. "why did I and Bakugou almost–"

And she cried, too. Ah, she felt that small tweak now.

* * *

When he opened the door to her, he hadn't expected to see this. If she had been the one to be pleasantly surprised by his initiative, it was his turn to be bitterly puzzled with his guest.

It was now when he realized that it was raining cats and dogs outside. Her hair was soaked wet, raindrops falling down the tips and trailing down her face, neck, and arms. Her skin was rough after what must have been a long ass time in the middle of the rain. She wore this apologetic smile on her face, smiles on smiles on smiles that never filled the void in her eyes, endlessly saddened by something he couldn't point, but that must be pretty tough if the star girl was in fucking shambles.

He quickly took her in, frowning at her disposal to partake in the tradition of having a cold after the exam season. "Oi, don't come dripping me wet, you bitch." he rubbed her arms to give her some warmth, flustered at her dumfounded expression after such a caring action. "I'll go get you a fucking towel. You stay out."

" _Damn woman, damn her to hell."_ his thoughts furiously pushed him into the bathroom, looking for a decent towel for her to dry her head with. Her hair had been so messy, all her tresses tangled into little knots of undying despair. Uraraka fucking Ochako wasn't going to cuddle – because he knew she would be seeking some source of heat after being exposed to harsh temperatures outside, and he wasn't going to have her all watery and messy.

Bakugou grabbed a smooth looking piece of cloth– it could even be a t-shirt, he didn't even give a fuck. All he wanted was to have her dry and make her smile again so his life would have a sense of peace again. He stomped his way out the bathroom to find her sitting on his bed, looking at her hands absent-mindedly.

He almost asked her.

 _Almost_.

Then, he remembered it wasn't his business. She already had Deku to talk about this stuff. If she wanted to ramble though, Bakugou would listen.

He threw the towel to her – she immediately snapped out of reverie to catch the red towel, and stared at it blankly – and went to fetch his laptop and pendrive. "I have some good shit here." he waved the thingy proudly. "I bet you'll like whatever we watch here."

When she didn't come up with a snotty remark like she used to, or when Uraraka never rose up from her seat to berate him or throw a pillow to him– just do something, something snapped in him. Fearing an encounter with an awkward crying baby, he turned around, as slowly as ever. She was looking at the towel with a distant stare. She wasn't crying, but her heart was crying a river inside of her.

He sighed and padded to her, kneeling in front of her. His deft hands grabbed the towel from her hands and he started to clumsily dry her hair. If she wasn't going to cooperate, he'd sure as hell make her presentable for their bonding night. Fuck her and her turmoil–

When he saw her shiver for a second, those curses died in his throat. Despite the guilt climbing all the way to his gut, he still didn't call her out on her silence. He continued messing with her hair and watching the drops fly around. Her hands were clasped on her thigh, fingers entangled with each other in a death grip.

This girl, that girl who was tough no matter what, suddenly rose up again. "Sorry!" the smile was beaming, heart breaking and painfully deceitful at the same time. "I was just a bit off." the towel was shrugged off her shoulders, and she got up. After letting her mask fall down for so long, she had picked it so fast that it knocked the air off his lungs.

Uraraka got up, purposefully hiding her grimace while going to choose a movie. No matter how much she tried to act, after such a deadly silence, he knew something was wrong with her. His frown deepened, hands clenched in frustration– he couldn't speak, he couldn't let his care for her show.

After all, this girl belonged to another damned bastard. He was the first one who didn't want it to be that way, but fuck his luck, really.

She threw him the pen drive. "Earth to _King of Doom_! Is this fine–"

He threw her the towel so she'd finish his handiwork. "Dry your fucking hair, you raincloud! I don't wanna have my dorm getting puddles of water."

"Opsies, sorry." once the towel was in her hands, she stepped away from his laptop – he was dangerously glaring at her – and started getting rain off her hair. Her bowl cut had turned into a bird nest in a matter of seconds, all thanks to his careless hands. Her expression turned devilishly nasty as she strode towards him in silence, then buried his hair in the towel and started rubbing the cloth up and down.

Bakugou furiously tried to get rid of that pest of a girl by tugging at her sweater sleeves, feet pounding on the ground. "OI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!"

She giggled while resuming her previous work of drying her own mess. "You needed to see what it–" her towel was taken from her as he looked at her, growling like an angry dog. "Oh. Oh my."

His hair was so disarrayed and messy– his spikes were pointed in wrong angles, some shrunk into curves and other weighed down because of the wetness of the towel, causing some of his strands to be completely fucked up. Other parts were fuzzy and askew. The whole picture was sinful and hilarious. It didn't take time for her to notice how embarrassed and stupidly angry he looked to just burst out laughing. She ended up having to sit down.

He was having a hard time. His hands were throbbing to find any sort of pointy object to pop his eyes out– her laugh was so nasal, loud and honest that it was both irritating and adorable.

"O-oh my g-oo–" laughs, laughs, and he grew even more flustered as he dried some of his spikes and set them in the right directions while looking at a mirror on his closet. "That- that's a masterpiece-e! Best Je-Jeanist would–"

He immediately turned to her with decent hair – not perfectly fine, still a bit wet –, throwing the towel to her in a futile attempt of shutting her up. "Don't you dare bring that guy's name up!" she still went on laughing a few meters away from him, hands reaching for the towel. "He's such a sassy motherfucker…"

Her laughing fit stopped – finally, he groaned – as she started rubbing the towel on particularly wet points of her hair. "I'm sorry, but that hairdo will show you how you can't mess with my hair ever again."

He arched an eyebrow to her. He could have cut her hair short and thrown it to a bin and get it all over with – of course she wouldn't see that he had been gentle. That little smile on her stupid face showed that she had noticed his intentions though, but it's not like she'd ever thank him for giving her a beehive as a hair style.

"I mean," the towel was removed from her hair, revealing a ball of brown locks. "what's wrong with you?"

Bakugou spared her with a few seconds of silence before walking to her, sitting down in close proximity and putting some hairs back where they belonged. He did it with such slow pace and intent that she was momentarily breathless. Forgotten was her prior silence and problems outside the room. His fingers would sometimes brush her cold, sensitive skin– his finger pads burned her. All she could feel and see was his pale skin and his burning flames softening from a hair to another.

He focused on putting the mess he made in a minute back together, focusing in everything but her unblinking eyes– oh, how soft they were, and how easy it was to dive into an airless sea of monsters, darkness and frightening tides, only to look into her eyes and peek inside her soul, see what had been troubling her earlier and what she felt– what she felt for _him_ , for the world, for herself. He outwardly inched a bit closer in concentration, fixated on having her with a decent hairdo so she wouldn't bitch about it all night long.

It could also be because her presence calmed the tornado of ashes that went through him whenever her skin brushed his fingers. It could also be because he enjoyed being surrounded by darkness but her light, or how her lips were slightly parted, insinuating wait– they whispered longing in a thousand languages, screamed at him to kiss them, to bite them, to make all kinds of atrocities to those uninjured roses of hers. He heard her sigh contently for the first time in ages.

Then, of course, he had to break such tranquil moment in a whisper.

"I've seen you at worse times, though."

Her spine stiffened as she looked at him, horrified after such blunt and unfortunate comment. Realizing how he had come across as violent and how her silent disposition to his touches had been shattered into smithereens, he pulled away, coughing uncomfortably. "Go get yourself a brush, you bubblehead. Stop fucking bitching about it."

There she was with the giggle business, touching the parts he had merely arranged on instinct. She could still feel the touch of a man that, despite the hell outside the room, could make her feel like nothing once and, suddenly, build her a monument and make her feel special and all giddy inside. And she had no idea why. "Thanks for the help, Bakugou."

In some way, she was pouring much more meaning than what one could catch. He did notice how gentle her voice was, and the rasp in her vowels and the tiny _tiny_ smile. It made him only more aware of her presence and it was disturbing.

He didn't dare to speak against her and hummed a response, scrolling through his movie archive with skeptic eyes. A minute later, she had already settled in front of his bed with an army of fluffy pillows and his whole futon torn from the mattress. Such heresy struck him like a bolt, pointing at his naked mattress in pure horror.

"What fucking fortress are you building on the floor, you bitch?" he grabbed his laptop – in a Bakugou way: violently – and flung it in front of her, crashing next to her. Since her makeshift sofa was relatively small, they had to sit close to each other. None of them had a complaint against the arrangement, though. Well, Bakugou did in a way. "Couldn't you have done this on the bed so this would be less messy?"

She blinked at him, again with that unimpressed look only _she_ would pull at him. "Yeah. But where's the fun on a movie night without a messy arrangement?"

"There were many other ways to go about this." spoke he, refusing to believe that she had done all this mess for the sake of being fun – then, he realized that Uraraka was damn crazy and random when he never asked for it. He still loved it anyway. "We could have gotten some blankets and settled on the bed with a few of them, or taken those puffs and set them in front of the table..."

Another suggestion rushed through his mind, but he didn't dare to word it. However, the way he voiced his ideas made it clear that he had another way for them. She gestured with her hands for him to go on. Rose twinkled in his cheeks– thank god it was dark in the evening and there were clouds and rain all over the sky. Uraraka's presence made it all quieter and the rain, one way or another, was forgotten in the heat of their previous banter.

He nodded to the bed. "We could take the bed, lay down under the futon, pillows, and just put the damn laptop on that table."

The idea sounded cuddly as hell, and it spelled intimacy and a level of closeness that they clearly weren't ready for. She blushed at the idea of sharing a bed with Bakugou– but fuck, what could go wrong? It was just a movie night and it sounded horribly comfortable. Some healthy snuggles in a perfectly fine and fluffy bed, warm and possible cuddles – she needed some cuddles to get past today's tiring and draining hell – sounded like a plan to her.

She nodded and hurriedly climbed up the naked mattress, watching his face go from unbelieving to smirking. "I would have never thought that getting you in my fucking bed would be so damn easy, angelface."

That

that was _weird_.

She blushed in all kinds of red as he put the comforter around them, elbows touching as they set their heads on their arms. Oh, that shameful expression of hers made all kind of delicious twists in his stomach. He wasn't one for making people blush or trying to make girls' panties drench– but hell, he had to fucking try. He was always in for making people ashamed, especially if it was the out-going, witty and fearless Uraraka.

The moment they were lying down, him quickly getting the movie started with that mischievous glint in his eye– oh, she was in for a horrible night.

A moment later, the movie was started, both teenagers fighting for a good posture under the thick feather blanket. Their eyes were deeply focused on the shitty movie Bakugou had once again chosen – he was so stupidly dramatic and over the top when it came to filmography – but their hearts were beating irrationally fast. They would sneak glances at each other when one would reach out for popcorn, or water. Also each time Uraraka tried to get some goodies Bakugou would slap her hand away, lest the incident from the previous day happened again.

Whenever his arms flexed to reach out for snacks or just shut her mumbling by smashing her head against the pillows, she'd gulp. Being so close to a man, to a beast in the skin of a not-so-humble man– his hair was again a bit disheveled, making her wonder for the first time if he regularly brushed his mess of spikes, or if he just shook his hair after a shower like dogs do and made it roll like that.

Her fingers travelled to his head, then he flinched and glared at her from the corners of his eyes. Incandescent orbs threatened her to suffocate her in flames and hands on her throat. She chuckled as the softness of his tresses – something she had never really stopped to think about but was currently enjoying to her heart's content.

His voice bubbled inside her chest. "The fuck're you doing, pest."

Her fingers continued threading around his locks. "Your hair was a bit messy; I'm just making you a favor."

His face buried itself on his arms. The tension music echoed around them, making her uneasy as she absent-mindedly combed his hair and focused on the movie. His blush went unnoticed for her, and he unconsciously nuzzled on her soft, tender hands– dude, _stop_.

He abruptly pulled her hand away with a grimace, but his discomfort wasn't noticed either. His reflexes had kicked in too late, now he had lost his cool again. Goddammit, what was this girl doing to him? His hands fisted the mattress and started tugging at it, all while Uraraka fawned over the protagonist's back story and murder reasons– her face when she did the thing with the fingers, all interested in such stupid stuff annoyed him so much.

Nevertheless, Bakugou had never felt so at ease yet struggling to keep himself in check around someone. Her proximity was dawning on him like a bug on his back, nonsense dots of gee shining in her brown eyes. Sometimes, he'd catch her glancing at him for a second or two, maybe to check if he was enjoying the movie as much as she was.

In all honesty, having his newfound love interest less than an inch away from him wasn't helping him. He had all odds against him: not only the movie was bland and cheap, but he had this fidgety, sweet and mumbling adorable Uraraka elbowing him to focus. He could do anything but focus on the movie. He dug his chin on the skin of his arms– he tried for all his remaining sanity not to look at her.

So… he didn't. He snuggled his elbows and looked either at his bureau in a corner of the room or at the movie. Bakugou shifted on the mattress, and felt her squirm after a moment of contact. Not long after that he'd discover that she wasn't really making a fuss over his skin brushing hers– his heart did stop for a second and the hairs on his nape shot dramatically. Glancing at the movie with spare annoyance, he discovered that the movie was reaching its romantic climax.

Classic female in distress was confessing, moved to tears by a male who had sacrificed himself for her safety– her whole being was trembling, quivering in hear and succumbing to the harsh reality that her beloved was dying. Ah, apparently, some shit scary monster had stabbed the loser with an axe. Bakugou had the urge to scoff. Too much corny stuff for him to deal with in a horror movie. Expecting Uraraka to be giggling at this bullshit scene, he smirked, ready to make a snarky, vicious remark for the first time–

She was crying. Her eyes stared at the screen as if she had seen a child die in the hands of a murderer. Her orbs were blown wide, mouth ajar and her hair was a mess again– it was a ghost portrait of what Uraraka was. Her cheeks were puffy, eyes glassy and his heart wrenched awkwardly in his chest. Her shoulders shook slightly, the lowest of hiccups issuing from her ribcage in a broken lullaby.

Whatever underlying distress she was going through, he couldn't ask. But he could make her speak, too.

"Oi, Uraraka." sighed he. The aforementioned immediately brushed her tears away and smiled like she always did – but it didn't reach her eyes, it wasn't genuine, and Bakugou was sick of it. "Stop crying, it's a goddamn cheesy piece of garbage."

Her head turned to the screen in slow motion, then, stared at it blankly. "Yeah, sorry."

So this was the part about being understanding and shit that Kirishima told him about, huh? Bakugou laid his forehead on his arms, awfully tired. All the patience he had been keeping inside for whatever time she needed help with anything petty, all the hopes he had for this night to be more peaceful, for it to be spectacular, eventful, and possibly end with them a bit cuddled under the blankets– ok, maybe not that, of course Bakugou would never cuddle with someone again. All those expectations flew out the window and crashed ten feet below the earth surface.

"Uraraka."

Still slightly doe-eyed, she looked at him with wonder. "I ain't gonna pry whatever shit you have going on from you. If something's bothering you, whatever the fuck it is, tell me. Feeling you cry beside me is annoying and I'm not gonna have this night screwed over _again_."

He could have been gentler, but Bakugou didn't do gentleness or tactful approaches. He would have liked to bask in her warmth and sweetness, but her tears had stirred something in him. Of course he wouldn't ask – it was not his business. But that didn't mean he didn't care about her. In the wake of the day and the ending of the night he always wondered why her absence was so noticeable, or maybe he'd wonder what he could have worded differently so she would see– just _see_ that he cared in his particular manner.

Her silence overpowered the music from the movie, making it all around him be soundless for five good minutes. This time, ironically, he could clearly hear the pitter patter of the rain against his window pane, water splashing the glass and making him wonder if Uraraka had somehow provoked this foul weather. A big storm would come soon, so all he did was move a bit closer to her to make her snap out of her tempesting haze.

Bakugou looked at her like she was his moon, and, in response, her eyes shifted to his and drenched in his blood, soaking in chaos, and just stared like he was her sun. In the wake of one and the end of another, they could only see each other for a few minutes– but after her appearance, stars would lit the dark sky like she had done with his heart, lighting sparks in parts of his body he didn't even know.

He just needed her to know he loved her. Unilateral or not, he wanted to get the point across: she was starting to consume his world, and all he asked for was an explanation as to why it was crumbling down in pieces.

Her scrunched form suddenly found its way to his, sides touching as his hands ached to hold hers. He resisted the thought.

Uraraka breathed in.

"I confessed to Deku, today."

A cold bucket of water soaked him to the bone, made his legs wiggle and for the first time. The unbreakable man silently swept the floor with his broken heart. However, her sniffles were the part that hurt the most. He feared to know what was coming next.

Despite the pain, she looked at him like she always did: smiling, corners trembling with the heaviness of demise. "He… didn't return my feelings."

His soul, brain and heart made a run for it and leaped out the window. His little red organ painfully groaned once it hit the ground, and when it tried to make its way back to its owner, it had been already broken in half again. Bakugou's eyes trembled as he looked at her– he was dumbstruck, stunned, sad, and mostly livid at this point.

So he only dared to murmur his mess of unintelligible thoughts and articulate them in the simplest ways. "He… rejected you?"

Uraraka feebly nodded, her smile turning sour and drops of salt falling down from her eyes. Something in him was destroyed instantly after seeing her shake, crumble, crack, and finally break. Her sobs were quiet, shoulders still shaking minimally. Something told him she was holding back all the pressure that this newfound discovery had made her shoulder.

Of course she had been hoping for Deku to be drooling for her, all the class was waiting for them to fucking finally make out and proclaim their love. However, much to his surprise and discontent, the bastard had rejected her.

Uraraka. He had rejected fucking Uraraka.

His teeth started grinding, seething– Deku couldn't be a quirkless dick, have all the luck by him, try to intimidate Bakugou, and now reject what would most probably be the best thing that ever fell in his hands. Bakugou would be the devil if he were happy for this. Of course he wasn't, not when she was obviously in love with Deku and she was shaking like this.

He couldn't be more than a friend, so he'd act as such.

His arm snuck around her shoulders and pulled her close, fireworks erupting in his chest as he did so. The feeling was inexplicably bitter. "What the fuck are you doing crying for that loser, angelface."

She shuffled closer to him her head directly touching his. "I'm sorry, Ba-Bakugou… it's just…"

He was fully aware of the next movie automatically starting, but he didn't dare interrupt this moment. His hands awkwardly rubbed her side, up and down. He sure was shit at cheering people up. "Shoot it already."

After one little sob, Uraraka spoke up. Her voice was chapped and completely worn off from crying. "I had expected for Deku to say that he loved me too, but… I'm sorry, I don't usually cry in public…"

He was damn aware. And the fact that she was alright with crying in front of him– because there was silent understanding and mutual respect for each other, and they had already let their walls. She could lift him up in the air if she so desired, and, in a way, he was sure she would be willing to be set on fire by him any time he needed her to. It was an unspoken bond that only rose to the light once it was needed. And she needed him now.

"I know, angelface." and he respected her for being so strong when others needed a flashlight to guide them through and give them hope. For that, he held her tighter.

"I'm just confused…" Uraraka painfully remembered how Deku had struck her with the truth, in the middle of the rain. He was completely unscathed by the harsh waterdrops, and now she was soaked to the core with confusion and misery. Her eyes had dropped to the ground, heart wincing in her chest after Deku had looked at her with pity like no one ever had. "His face was so… he was _hurt_ by rejecting me."

Bakugou grunted and messed with her hair to snap her out of it. "Stop thinking about that fucker." eye roll ensues. "Did he tell you why? Was it because you're a witty bitch, or maybe because you make popcorn float?"

There surfaced the camaraderie they had going on under layers of heroism and his short temper. She smiled for a brief moment, making Bakugou feel accomplished in the silliest of ways. It didn't last though, only flickered and then fell again. "He said he wanted to focus on becoming a hero. And that he couldn't afford a girlfriend with all that's been happening with All Might."

At least she wasn't stutteting like a fish out of the water anymore. Her voice was still dragging with darkness and the usual perkiness of her vowels was completely destroyed. This Uraraka was a tragedy. And he knew it would take her a while to get over it. And despite understanding Deku's ambitions and reasons – and maybe even respected them a tiny bit – he was furious at him all the same.

"What a douchebag."

"It's not his fault, Bakugou…" suddenly, she lay on her side and hugged him, snuggling with his shoulder. "I think… it's mine."

Her movements startled him, made him jump in the place and turn to her, as well. They were fully hugging now, laying on the mattress and him trying to awkwardly hug her back. She wouldn't feel his touch for sure with so many raging emotions inside of her, but the slim chance of her feeling him made him react. Bakugou nuzzled her head, eyes closed.

"I just feel…" her hands gripped the back of his black shirt, shaking. "I feel like not only have I destroyed our friendship, but I feel… I don't feel as sad as I think I should be."

This statement brought him to confusion. "Fucking elaborate, Uraraka. I can't read your damn thoughts."

She stiffened, either because of his harsh words or whatever she was going to say next. "I was completely sure of what I felt for Deku. But I have been… having these _thoughts_ , lately." her hands loosened and they just slackened on his back. His muscles instinctively tensed. "I was sure I loved him, and I said it with so much conviction before… the crash still hurt me. Yet… I've been having this feeling that I may not love him in the way I thought I did. I felt like we were… meant to be. But somehow, I…"

His hand came to rub her head in the gentlest manner he could. His respect for this woman pulled her to unimaginable limits– he was blushing, shaking because this was too intimate and her presence was lulling his brash brain to sleep. Yet he wanted to do this. There was no harm on being a good friend. "What the fuck, angelface? What if he had" his grip on her grew frantic, as if she would slip away in a second. "accepted your feelings? Would you have fucking pretended to love that bastard because you just felt you were _meant to be_?"

"I do think I love him!" screamed she, muffled by his chest. The sound of his palpitating heart tickled her stomach. "But… I just wasn't aware of how much. And while I do feel like I love him and shit, this hurts like fire… things changed, somehow."

"How?"

"Well… I'm hurting no matter how much I try to convince myself that my feelings weren't that strong. But… I'm not as sad as I would have expected." he wanted to tell her that it was because she was strong, because she was brave and she'd heal from this– but she had different thoughts. "I think… my heart…"

Uraraka couldn't say it. Not after all she had realized, all she had come to terms with some time ago but was refusing to admit. Her heart, made of powerful towers and strong foundings– it had been torn apart, blown to ashes. But this man with her… why did it all feel like nothing was wrong when she was in his arms? Why did she feel so… _safe_?

Uraraka shed more tears. Why did she feel so terrified of something she didn't even know?

"Spit it out already. I'm not a teddybear and my shirt is a mess."

Of course he'd sound so reluctant and stupid out of sheer instinct. He wanted to get this over with, he needed to have her in peace again so he'd be in peace again. "I'm terrified that… that all the feelings I felt for Deku, all the feelings I still feel for him… that they may be unfounded."

Bakugou frowned for the first time in too long. "Uraraka…"

"I feel that" her fingers trapped the fabric of his chest, feeling his heart beating under her palm. It was awfully soothing. "My heart is so out of control now. And I'm hurting. But all I can think about is how hurt he looked, and how little I'm hurting. But I still feel like the truth would have hurt more, and I think it may be because– because I…"

Uraraka trailed off. Bakugou put the pieces together in silence.

"So you're all messed up…" he weighed the impact of his words wistfully. "because you think that, despite loving him so much, you are not fucking sobbing all over the goddamn building. So you think that your love for the bastard wasn't as strong as you thought." he felt nod. "You're hurting because you are not hurting."

"I feel like my heart has lied to me, and that's why I'm still breathing. That even though I felt like I loved him… I didn't feel what love may be like." cried she, tears subsiding. "My heart didn't beat as hard as it should, or that my skin doesn't tingle when he touches me. I felt like I loved him, my admiration drove me to that conclusion but…"

The idea of Uraraka experimenting those sensations with somebody else other than Deku struck him like a knife. It hurt like hell that maybe Deku wasn't her only option – he should have known there could be other people chasing after her. She was pretty, nice and talented. If he, the stone man Bakugou, had fallen for her, anybody could.

Fingers snuck through her hairs while her arms circled him again in a petite hug. The movie, long ago forgotten, blared in front of them. "So you were fucking _wrong_."

Her nod only made her snuggle more against him. A grunted sigh escaped his lips outwardly, feeling her whole being against him. No matter how severe the matter was, her presence was keeping at him at bay– his ire had calmed down, only feeling the thick air around them prop him higher and higher until he was facing the moon of her dark irises. His muscles were yet to get loose after the agitation of Deku's rejection.

He had rejected Uraraka and made her end up like this. The queen of fortitude and happiness was gliding down the slippery slope of a lie – all because Deku had messed with– misled her. Bakugou was pretty damn sure that Deku knew about her feelings for him, yet he decided to not call her on it despite knowing about it all growing in her mind– and their game went on til' tonight.

But, if Deku had accepted her feelings, would it had been any better? Ugh. These situations were the main reason why Bakugou never _dared_ to peek into these fucking dramatic issues. Thinking about it was giving him a pounding headache.

"Uraraka." mumbled he, feeling her still and quiet for the first time that night. "When you say you don't feel that shit with _Deku_ …" the suggestion was evident in his voice, dripping with a bit of jealousy and embarrassment. "does that mean you have felt it with somebody else, then?"

"A-Ah." among his flustered state, his chest felt the heat of her face. He knew what she was thinking almost instantly, and his flustered blush spread to his ears. "Well… you could say I have…" she pursed her lips, thankful for the darkness in the room and how she could hide her face on his chest.

She didn't dare say anything else, because it had been too much of an emotional day to dwell into how her breathing was erratic, or that the air in the room wasn't enough– suddenly, they weren't in the room anymore, they were flying in the sky, embracing each other in a sweet grip. He was a bit too strong, probably trying to hold in his anger for Deku, but she was endlessly caring in her touches and caresses. Every time her fingers slid along his pearly skin, or touched his hair, he wanted to fly.

And every time he looked at her, her heart pounded irresistibly hard against her bones, exploding when he was too near, and dying when his lips were an inch nearer than needed. His touches were like feathers falling on her, the touch of a fearful animal doubting on where to caress, unsure of what to do. He was a fearsome monster that would crawl behind her without losing its dignity.

Why hadn't she ever felt this with Deku?

 _What were those emotions that were making her hurt somehow?_

And why was it so painful to smell his shirt and feel closer to a future home? What was this?

"Then," whispered Bakugou, pulling away from her now that she was fully calm, collected and controlled after the breakdown. "do you love Deku, angelface?"

Her answer was almost instantaneous. "I don't think I can say I don't, because the pain– it's still here, Bakugou. The fact that I may have screwed our friendship is nagging at me. But at the same time, I'm confused."

"Confused?" yes, Bakugou was socially disabled, and couldn't see that the fact that Uraraka was madly blushing at him was a big hint of where the confusion came from.

She nodded, pulling away a bit as well to give him space. "The rejection still hurts despite it being a lie. After all, this false feeling– or whatever this was, it felt nice, and I thought he felt the same, too. I'm just a bit beaten up, that's all."

Her eyes fluttered close for a second, and he brushed a strand of hair away. Too much for a tranquil night with her. Still, the hush between them was brushing all their fears away, leaving them restless. Her eyes opened again, revealing that little spark of hers ignited by warmth and the reflection of his desire for her. His eyes travelled to her parted lips, shining in the darkness.

That was the worst time to kiss her. Yet, given the unholy mess she had become, he wanted to make it all feel better by kissing the pain out of her– wanted to make her sigh, smile, giggle his name and not her offender's. Why couldn't fate be merciful with him?

"You know," there was that little giggle of hers again. His stomach made summersaults upon those little squeals and pearls of uninterrupted joy. "you can be a real softie when you want to."

That was when his frown was again wrinkling his angular features, eyes bulging and fangs showing once again. Her heart fluttered out of her mouth for some reason. "Oi, who are you calling a softie!? Weren't you my guest, and I'd kick you out!"

Normalization was good. This jump from sadness, crying, to just normal Bakugou raging over the littlest of details– it gave her life in a thousand spoken ways. "You can actually kick me out." Bakugou squinted at her. "But I doubt you will."

"Fuck off already, Uraraka."

The gravity bender laughed naturally, showing her teeth and leaving her in a grinning mess afterwards. She turned, face down, and looked at the suspended screen of his laptop. "I think we kinda lost track of the movie, huh."

His fist shot out of the blanket, face down as well, like before all this mess ensued. "And who's fault is it, you damn crybaby!"

She bumped him with her elbow playfully, smirking at his antics. "Stop being so extra and get a damn movie already."

"Oi, are you going on at me with the extra shit again? Who are you calling extra, you damn bitch?"

And despite the fact that she was looking undeniably better than ten minutes ago, Bakugou made a friendly reminder to himself to have a little chat with the quirkless bastard the day after.

* * *

A day after the storm, the explosive teenager was ready to start his bastard hunting.

Bakugou was sitting near the dorm building, rays of Friday cloudy sunrise reflecting on his blonde tresses. His hands were deep in his pockets, backpack readied with all his books and his jacket blowing with the morning wind. His usually serene but moody features were constricted into a deep frown and a constant glare at whatever thing that moved in his peripheral vision.

Thus, when he spotted Deku leaving for class on his own, very possibly the last one to exit the building, Bakugou's eyes instantly narrowed. The tears on his short from Uraraka's bratty crying and how she had wailed for her heart to stop hurting– and oh, how he had heard sobbing behind her door when he dropped her at her room, how quickly she had broken down once danger was not a threat.

Yeah, she was always dealing with her feelings in the shadows– _alone_ , right?

Not anymore.

Once the freckle boy was nearby, Bakugou coughed, making Deku look at him. The latter started sputtering, and when Bakugou's expression turned potentially threatening, he tried to hurry away. He wasn't having none of his murdering business this early in the morning, especially having some serious talk to do with Uraraka.

Before he could scurry away, the beast with fangs seized him by his shirt and dragged him to a shadowy side of the residence, morning dim light hitting all over the place but around them.

And once they were successfully hidden from the public eye, Bakugou wasted no time in smashing the teen onto the concrete wall, grimace deeper than imaginable. He wanted to punch this guy, pound the living lights out of him– but he couldn't. As much as he hated Midoriya, as much as he wanted to hurt him because he had hurt Uraraka in a way…

She wasn't _his_. But he could still call him out on her actions as her friend.

"What the fuck is your goddamn problem, bastard!?" yelled Bakugou, his hands already producing sparks to vent the anger he was feeling. It was pure adrenaline, notion of knowing that he had a damn reason for once to insult him. "What the fuck are you doing rejecting angelface like _that_!?"

It seems like Deku had been giving the very same topic some thought, because he snapped the moment he mentioned Uraraka. "Why are you calling me out on this, Kacchan?" Midoriya's distress was evident. There were heavy bags under his eyes, teeth clenched, and fists as tightly squeezed as possible.

But Bakugou paid no heed to his worry about the matter, just wanted to get answers out of him. "Because I had Uraraka crying to me for a solid hour, telling me how fucking messed up she was because you rejected her yesterday!" his vice grip only tightened, and he crashed the other's head against the concrete once again. "Give me a fucking answer as to why she isn't enough for you, nerd!"

"Is it my fault that I don't feel the way she does, that I am already planning my life beforehand!?" tears were gathering at the corners of Midoriya's eyes. Damn crybaby loser. Bakugou snarled. "Can't I have higher ambitions than her, and have my goals–"

Bakugou punched him on the face, knocking him to the ground below. Deku didn't even try to get up, just winced and rubbed the sore spot. The blonde looked down at him, red eyes burning with intense fervor and bloodthirst.

"I hadn't intended to come and use damn violence against a nerd like you." scowled Bakugou, sweat running down his forehead with emotion. He cleaned some of it with his wrist. "But you ain't gonna say to me that her goals are in any sort higher than yours, when I'm pretty damn sure you know her motivations. Don't try to sell me some drama material, bastard."

Deku looked up, mute and unable to speak a word. Bakugou only glared harder at him. "You have two ways out of this, nerd." he spit near his enemy, face deformed in a perpetual wince. "You can run away like a fucking coward, or answer my questions. If you wanna leave, do it now."

But the other didn't make a move. Instead, he stared at the ground below him, still sitting. Bakugou gripped his shoulder and forcefully picked him up. Midoriya stood in the shadows, face cast down– and Bakugou stood in front of his classmate, uneven spots of sun between clouds hitting on his face and making him look like an ethereal being when such notion was far from reality.

Bakugou was a fearsome monster, somebody who was to be respected. He was awkward, protective, socially lacking and incredibly talented. This time though, he was being _needy_ , too– needy for answers, needy for closure on what Deku had done to wrench Uraraka's heart so powerfully.

Deku had had her in his grip and just… squeezed all happiness out of her.

"Help me fucking understand, Deku." mumbled Bakugou, making his way to him again. His hand travelled to his already wrinkled collar, trembling with bottled up rage– oh no, there was a big storm coming. "If you had this thing about being a single hero – or whatever business you had, then–"

Bakugou's spine hunched over, teeth clenched together. Her whimpers the feel of her hot body against his still ran deep in his blood, not providing good aid to help the situation. The blonde was sinking inside, feeling how rage took over him, a wave of rushing curses and violence coming to him like it had never come before. These walls, the four walls of his existence were fracturing, starting to show creaks of fire coming through–

Then, he just screamed at him and his fist came flying to Deku's stomach. "WHY GIVE HER THE HOPE, WHY LEAD HER ON WHEN YOU HAD PLANNED ON REMAINING FUCKING SINGLE!" his voice boomed at top of his lungs, deep and hoarse. "Why make her wait, why make her make the move just to– JUST TO FUCKING REJECT HER LIKE YOU HAD PLANNED TO!"

Bakugou would have been fine with Deku not reciprocating her feelings, or just having feelings for someone else. It wouldn't have hurt Bakugou to death to see Uraraka tie the knot with Deku in the end, either– at least she'd be fucking happy.

But everyone knew Uraraka had feelings for Deku. It'd be nonsensical for the very same boy not to notice. So Bakugou punched the wall, making cracks on the surface. "I can't fucking understand how you call yourself her friend when you knew her feelings– because you…"

He glared at the panting teen on the ground again, and a shadow passed by his eyes. The fact that he refused to stand on his feet again told him all he needed. "because you knew about her feelings, didn't you."

Deku nodded curtly, a tear trailing down his cheek. "I should have fucking known–"

"But I also knew…"he watched as Midoriya removed some dirt from his face, breathing hard. "I also knew that her feelings… I knew she'd let go of them. I knew her feelings…"

A droplet of heaven water fell down Bakugou's arm, but he didn't give a damn. All he could see was a boy who had played with Uraraka, someone who was trying to find excuses… as if he knew the truth. Uraraka's feelings might have ended up being a lie to her– she had started feeling stronger things for someone, it seems. She felt that true love was bubbling in the surface of her heart, _stronger_ feelings and emotions sparking up in her compared to the petty butterflies Deku just provoked.

But whether her feelings were feeble, he had hurt her anyway. She was confused: she had fallen in love for the longest of months, found that she felt more for someone else while still loving Deku, confessed, and gotten her heart broken to only find that she wasn't entirely disgusted, just heartbroken.

Unfounded feelings or not, they had been there. And Deku had played with her. Bakugou kneeled in front of his opponent. "She fucking loves you, asshole. And you basically told her that being a hero matters more to you than her."

"She doesn't love me, Kacchan." sputtered Deku, vocally grumpy. This was the roughest part of Midoriya that Bakugou had never seen. "And I'm sure you know that."

"And how in hell would you know _that_." deadpanned Bakugou, hands flinching with violent urges.

"Have you seen… her eyes, lately?" oh, so he had noticed the lack of stars in the sky of her eyes. "They… didn't shine as much. Something had changed, Kacchan– _somebody_ made her change. The way she looked at me after yesterday… I just realized how it had all gone downhill, it was crystal clear then."

There was a moment of silence between them, rain starting to pour from the sky in slow pours of random droplets. Bakugou seemed unaffected by the weather, only preoccupied with injuring this bastard real hard. "She may have found a better partner for her. But that doesn't mean she doesn't still hold fucking feelings for you, idiot. Even if she tries to let them go, it will take her a damn lot of time."

Midoriya dug his nails on the concrete of the floor, his heart shaking uncontrollably and painfully constricting his train of thoughts. He visualized Uraraka, smiling at him with those beaming eyes of hers, and her hair floating in a halo. The thought of her crying didn't bode well with him, maybe because he had never seen her cry.

But Bakugou had. _Why_?

"If she has found that there are better things for her out there, I'll never be the one to hold her down, Kacchan."

"You said you didn't know this at the time you rejected her – but _after._ Don't come spitting lies at me, bastard." still kneeling, he grabbed his throat in confusion and anger. "Don't tell me you did it for her. At least be fucking honest and tell me you wanted to give priority to your career, and not her. I don't think you were unaware of what she felt for you."

"Are you calling me dumb?"

" _I_ am dumb. I am dense and slow with these things. But look how quickly I caught you." he didn't let Deku go. "I am calling you stupid because you knew that she had feelings for you. You didn't know about her stuff because this was a pretty damn newfound discovery when she actually came fucking crying after that and I was the first one to know. So don't come at me with that crap."

"She doesn't love me!"

"DENYING THE TRUTH WON'T GET YOU ANYWHERE, ASSHOLE!" his voice was thick with emotion, veins popped wide and eyes bulging out of their sockets. His fingertips burnt. "She still fucking loves you like the silly bitch she is, and will still hurt for a long time. I already fucking told you: the fact that she has found her feelings were somewhat fake ain't mean she's over you."

"I didn't mean to mislead her. I never meant to–"

"But you still did anyway." snarled the red-eyed boy, irises pointy in disdain towards the excuse of a hero in front of him. "You were all blushy with her, showering her in gifts and stuff while you fucking knew she loves you– you never even acted on your feelings like Uraraka did. At least she had the decency to be brave and tell you. The fact that she later discovered that there may be other options is irrelevant to the fucking clear damn fact that you broke her heart."

Midoriya made an attempt to get up as Bakugou propped himself up. "It wouldn't have mattered anyway."

The blonde rose an eyebrow at him. His face was already injured, face swollen and purple wounds already darkening his cheek– yet he was still defending himself. The nerve of this dude. "If I had accepted her feelings, if she knew of other options around her, it wouldn't have mattered." he coughed bitterly, "She knew there were other options for her, right? She may love me, but those other options would have surely nagged at her no matter how much she loved me. She wouldn't be able to live knowing there's much more to love than what I offered."

And he was right about that. Uraraka was always in for the 100%, not less than that. But the point still stood out. "Yet you didn't cut her feelings short. It doesn't matter how she's feeling now about her _feelings_ , but how she was feeling right then about _you_. You let her believe she had opportunities with you when what you should have done was tell her straight away that you didn't want anything with her, you miserable asshole – so shut your damn mouth, I hate liars."

"Kacchan–"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Bakugou pinned him to the ground, punching his ribs. _Hard_. Hit after hit, Deku became more aware of the fact that Bakugou wasn't using his quirk– he didn't want to destroy him to death, just feel him hurting so her suffering was compensated somehow. No matter how much he hit, pounded, and grunted at him, Deku didn't budge. "What are you–"

His talking haltered when Deku flashed him a smile, one of those unreasonable smiles he had whenever he was in danger– that stupid grin that got him out of all trouble. And Bakugou was sick of it. "I am sorry for what I caused to Uraraka. I'm sorry that I misled her in a way that led us to this but… I would have hurt her either way, Kacchan."

The aforementioned looked up to the sky, expression turning grim as rain cascaded down the sky in hues of rose. "Don't come at me with your glittery business, Deku. If I weren't so tired after last night, I would surely punch you for a damn while to my heart's fucking content. You hurt her more this way, bastard." Bakugou cleaned some rain from his face. The drizzle was light enough to damp but not as light as to go unnoticed.

The explosive teenager was soon getting up again, showing Deku who was still the boss there. "I am glad it's over and that angelface can go on in life without worrying about a dick like you. But I ain't forgetting this any time soon. Nor is Uraraka."

"I will apologize to Uraraka properly as soon as I see her–"

"But you know, Deku." spoke Bakugou, as softly as he could still be in his agitated state. "I'm both fucking angry and disappointed with how things turned out. It's not like I trust you or anything, because I think you still are a lucky motherfucker." intense glare at the boy, who frowned back. "But I would have never thought that you, of all people, would do things like these."

"Kacchan, I…"

The explosive teen removed his jacket and tied it around his waist, palms rippling with small explosions. They'd soon be late for class and he'd be damned if he let Kirishima tease him for being a sleepyhead. "You don't get to fucking apologize to me, asshole." one of his hands dug into a pocket again, the other grabbing his backpack tight. "Get the fuck up, loser."

And the aforementioned complied quickly, brushing off some dust. Bakugou wasn't done yet. "You may be all the good guy you wanna, I'm cool with hero wannabes – after all, I can always punch the shit out of them or ignore them. But as soon as you interfere with my life, you're done for."

And then he glared at him with the same passionate, burning and possessive stare of his. "Don't go near Uraraka to confuse her. Don't fucking dare do your glitter-glitter-blush thing because I'll kick your sorry ass to a thombstone. If I see you step in the wrong direction, you're fucking dead. Got it?"

That last line was whispered so harshly and menacingly that Deku had to step back to feel out of his rage zone. However, with so much burning hatred throbbing in Bakugou's voice, came a shocking realization for Deku. He stared at his classmate, taken aback by the rush of information that crashed within him as Bakugou was, slowly, making his way to the school.

"Kacchan, wait!" called Midoriya. And the blonde stood still, waiting for whatever bullshit he had to say. "Why… why are you so interested on Uraraka's wellbeing? What has gotten into you?"

Bakugou looked at the face of his sworn enemy. Purple swells marred his fair cheeks, and dirt was caked on his hair after being on the ground with the mud for so long. The blonde turned around and took his leave. When Midoriya was once again going to demand answers, Bakugou answered in the most humble, defeated voice somebody had ever heard intoned.

"Isn't it obvious, bastard?" but he kept on walking. " _She's_ gotten into me."

* * *

Fifteen minutes after the confrontation between both boys, Bakugou made his entrance two minutes later after the bell had rung. Everybody felt him internally fuming, not completely satisfied with the outcome of his fight with Midoriya– no one dared speak. Something big had happened.

It was when a very beaten Deku entered the classroom, one exact minute later than Bakugou, that everyone made the connection. However, only one person in particular was able to put the dots together.

Bakugou glanced behind him to see Uraraka glowering at him, her teeth clenched and her pencil broken in twain. That what when he knew that he had fucked up again. And the feeling sunk his heart deep again.

* * *

Bakugou could almost see it, the freedom of a heavy day. His backpack felt especially massive on his shoulders, grasped with his calloused hands. The bruises from the fight, still fresh after being washed with morning dew, hurt his mistreated fingers. His jacked had become a wrinkled mess after carrying it around tied at his waist. Some teachers had called him out on it because of etiquette and stuff, but Bakugou hadn't been paying attention.

Why, despite having poured all his frustrations on Deku – like a bully, he knew, but also in a deserved way because that kid had been a jerk –, despite having ignored Uraraka for the rest of the day and, even having talked stuff out with Kirishima– why. Why wasn't that feeling out of his heart?

Bakugou sighed while making his way to the dorm building. The feeling of remorse, ashes of anger and that nagging feeling that Deku hadn't been ounished enough– they were consuming him, eating him alive as hours tumbled around him. Where had his walls gone? Why had they collapsed after Uraraka had dared to step near them?

Of course he wouldn't be used to the idea of being so emotionally exposed – after all, no one had ever dared to step near the sanctuary of his heart excepting her. Why wasn't he satisfied with the beating, with seeing Deku to the ground? Was it because he had been relatively unfazed by his brutality, as if he was trying to make Bakugou believe he was a weakling? or, was there anything else left?

"Bakugou!"

Of course there was something left. There was _everything_ left.

Bakugou heard the dainty steps of her feet running towards him. His step haltered just before the steps to the building, but didn't dare to turn around. The sky had been watered with pinks, reds, and sun bathed clouds, giving birth to a golden lighting around them. He could picture how beautiful she would look in the midst of the path, her eyes determined to talk him off and her smile– it was always her smile what broke him, so cute and cheesy.

Her run stopped five good meters behind him. Bakugou finally turned around three seconds later, a hand on his pockets and the shallowest of expressions painting his face. There she was, of course she was there, like she had always been to torture him and, deep inside, he had a feeling that she'd always be there.

It was down to him and her. The wind blew around their halted bodies, staring at each other in wonder and surprise. It felt like centuries had passed ever since they last saw each other– all they could remember was the warmth of the other's arms, the shine of her eyes and the fire, blood and metal in his deep, hellish eyes. Everything that had to do with her was heaven, a world of colors and sunshine. All he had was a void world of curses and solitude.

Yet, there they were, world sunk in black and golden as the sun glared on them. Uraraka's eyes were slowly recovering their spark, stealing fire from his stance. He repared on how her hands were shaking, limp by her sides, and her breath was labored.

He didn't realize, but his was also clumsy, stuck in his stomach and inflating his anxiety to see her, to touch her and please, _please_ pray for her to be fine.

"Bakugou…"

He spit, guard back up upon the cold tone of her voice. "I thought we were above the name basis, angelface."

"Give it a rest." bit she, snarling and taking a step further. "I'm not like the others, I'm not going to leave so easily no matter how much you try to kick me out – just stop it."

His silence welcomed her, mildly ashamed that she was being so stubborn on him but, mostly, because he couldn't find a smart remark to keep her at bay. There was no point on denying it, she had long ago crossed the barrier.

Seeing her tear-stricken face, it seems like he may have also crossed her barriers too, because the way her eyes shone when looking at him was heart wrenching to watch, passion and frustration fighting for dominance. Was he hurting her in anyway?

Bakugou was going to turn and walk away again when her voice called after him again, cracking chords in the middle.

"Stop running away from me!"

So he stopped, eyes wide like stars and limbs tense under her control.

He could hear her shivering, struggling to get the words out. Was his presence troubling her as much as hers did to him? And why was she the only thing he could hear? The rustle of her hair against her face, riding the wind, or the battling of her eyelashes while fighting the tears…

She could only cry in front of him, couldn't she?

"Why…" it came wavery, low and growling. There was a fight going on, and it definitely was not funny. "Why did you have to beat him up?"

Bakugou chuckled. Of course she would still defend him even after all the ruckus the previous day – it was Uraraka. She was always standing up for those in between, even if she had no reason to. "He deserved more than what I gave him. That fucker–"

"Shut up."

"He misled you, Uraraka."

"I said shut up!" screamed Uraraka as loud as she could, face reduced to a mess of wrinkles and unwanted tears. "I don't wanna hear none of that bullshit, Bakugou!"

It was his time to fully turn to her, striding. "Why are you still defending that nerd when he gave you hopes all along, Uraraka?" he was a meter away from her, but it seemed like an abyss between them was widening and tearing them apart. It was unnerving to have her in reach, yet so far. "He hurt you, for fuck's sake. What were you crying so much for yesterday if you're gonna stick to him despite those conflicted feelings you have?"

The way he called her, how he softly as he would only do tried to speak to her. Uraraka could feel his heart trying to approach hers, making all those emotions he had just mentioned jump in circles in her stomach. Suddenly, she was sinking, spinning, left dizzy and ever so sick with the aftermath of a rejection.

The weight of an unrequited, yet fake love… it hung on her, as well.

"He's still my friend, Bakugou." growled she, feet flinching in advance. "And I don't understand why you, ironically of all people, would go and use him as a punching sack."

His jaw tensed and clenched, eyes darting inside of hers. The stars of determination and recovery illuminated the darkness of misery, and his fires chased her fears away. It was an incredible spectacle. "Maybe because I _do_ have business with him, angelface. And trust me, punching the hell out of him, after yesterday, wasn't fucking enough."

" _After yesterday_?" his words lingered in the golden rays of sunshine for a minute, clouding her vision as the terrible truth came to realization. "Don't tell me– _please_ , tell me you didn't because of that, Bakugou."

Bakugou refused to give a straight answer, so he wobbled around the attack and dodged the accusation as calculatedly as possible. "He didn't deserve to go off without punishment, roundface. Not after having misled you for so long."

"He isn't–"

His bruised hands clutched her forearms, alarm and urgency in his red eyes. "Stop fucking denying that he hasn't, already! He knew about your feelings, Uraraka. And if I knew about this, I'll never fucking believe you didn't know."

The gravity manipulator didn't know why, but the ground below her shattered and swallowed her quickly, leaving her in a cramped place. Her lungs constricted and refused to let her breath, because, because–

"I knew."

He let her go, apprehensive of what she'd say next. There was this leisure smile on her face, painted against her will. She knew for too damn long.

"A part of me thought that if he was playing along was because he knew the drill and just… decided to play along. I arrived to the conclusion that he liked me back."

And this was why Bakugou had given Deku such a hard beating– it was because of _this_. The way the stars in her eyes crashed to tears and how her smile faltered while murmuring sentences, drowning in the hard reality that a man she once came to love didn't love her back, but even if he did, he'd choose being a hero over her. And she couldn't find the heart to tell him he was wrong. Alas, so didn't Bakugou, who despite having given Deku all sorts of wounds, still felt unsatisfied.

"But, even if I've reached the conclusion that I didn't really love him– that it was a weak compared to these conflicted feelings, which I can't name…" her head was held down, neck shaking in confusion. There were no strangled noises or major fidgeting, so there was on sobbing. She was trembling with fear, so vulnerable for once in front of her. In a way, he also wanted to cry. "Why is it that I still hurt over Deku? I don't…"

Bakugou stepped an inch nearer when her voice raised a notch higher than usual. His hands felt the ghost of her skin caressing his soul, the flames of his eyes licking the sun that hit on her shoulders. "You still love him, angelface."

"Why?"

The blonde sighed. "Because that's what love is about, whether it is minor or big." her dumb, big and gleamy eyes stared deep into his. His fingers reached for hers for a moment, but ended deciding against it, grim expression dangling. "Sucks, right?"

She would never love him back, would she? It seems like her heart would always belong to Deku despite her feelings for him being laughable at best. Uraraka had experienced what true love was, the adrenaline of having someone near and feeling that spark in your eyes, actually feeling it buzzing. Bakugou sighed, his shoulders faltering ever so slightly because he had to face it: Uraraka was in love with another boy who didn't love her back. But maybe that was good for her, maybe Deku was after all a better man for her.

His scowl didn't seem angry at her for once, just sad at himself– for he had failed at making her happy so she could quickly move on, failing on making those emotions she talked about spark on her, failed to at least stop her crying. But every time he was in front of her, she was always crying. And Uraraka Ochako was not a crier.

But he didn't know that she didn't cry because he was a failure, or because he hadn't succeeded on making her happy – it was the other way around.

She cried because her heart had started beating once she entered that fateful common room and saw it set up to her liking. She cried because her fingertips were electric against his skin, or the way his hair glided so perfectly through her fingers when she combed through his mane. Her tears streamed down because her body in the bed would sometimes ache for his hands to burn her, how her eyes missed his and how badly she had been wanting to see them look at her with that ferocity of his.

Uraraka knew why she had almost kissed Bakugou that movie night.

It was because those newfound feelings turned her world upside down, and there was no way to put it in order anymore. She knew that there were weird things going on through her, something more powerful than her love for Deku and everything else she had ever encountered.

But… what was that feeling? Was she ready to embrace its whole power? Another little, tiny trail of thought waved in front of her as Bakugou suddenly turned away– he was tired of seeing her unmoving, still musing over that green haired loser who had injured her so when he could have given her all she needed, all she desired, and give away his little, stone heart for het to protect him.

But she would never love him back.

" _What if he rejects you as well?"_

The though flashed in front of her again, and Uraraka pounced. Bakugou had only taken one step away from her when voice reached his ears, shoulders stopping their shake and eyes stinging for so long.

"What is love, Bakugou?"

His shaking breath staggered in his throat, making it hard for him to recollect his thoughts and stop to think about what she had just said. It was a complicated question, that one. Millions of people asked the very same thing one day after the other, and there would never be a satisfying conclusion to such thing. Days, millennia and nights may pass, skipping generations of lost people in a crowd of mismatched shoes and hearts, everyone seeking for that little piece that made one's life fuller, sensible and bright with colors. Uraraka's world was white, lost in confusion, while his was deep black with dots of her eyes.

Bakugou had never experienced love before Uraraka, and even now he was struggling to understand what it really meant. She was barely making it through a rejection, but was still willing to hold on for Deku, he thought. She had had a past love, and knew what was the difference between the true deal and what a dainty kind of love she had for Deku. He didn't know what was going through her head at the moment, but he knew that she had sounded desperate and ultimately sad when wording her doubts.

Could he, of all people, give her a satisfying answer? The reckless, short-tempered boy with zero control and just a weak side for her?

Bakugou didn't know that answer.

But he knew what his answer would ever be, no matter who asked.

"Love is…" his head turned, letting half of his face to show. His eyes seemed torn, broken – and Uraraka's heart sunk – at the fact that his answer could either matter a ton or just be useless. He still had to try once more. "Love is that feeling you get when somebody comes in through your life– more like _barging_ , when you never asked. And no matter how hard you try to push them away, they stay despite your flaws, they just see through your words and will take care of your heart. It's that feeling when a world you took for granted gets shaken up and bursts into color, sends you flying, and leaves you confused, afraid– it's something you feel before knowing what it _is_."

There was a moment of silence after he finished, then two. The golden lights hit the ground Bakugou looked at, not even ashamed of having given such a discourse to the girl behind him. The weight on his shoulders didn't disappear– it only got heavier and heavier the more he listened to her breathing, his world still aware of the sun shining in its glory but submerged in a sea of darkness.

He was _suffocating_. He couldn't be there.

Then, he heard it. _A sniffle_.

Bakugou turned around to find out that she had stepped back during his speech, and how her hands were grasping her shirt for dear life. Her tresses hovered in the breeze, letting through the rays of sunshine while her eyes– her eyes, they were glazed, tears falling down without her truly noticing because… because in the end, the final piece had fallen into place. Her world was consumed by static as it, then, exploded into roses and the sun, meekly noticeable, shone in all its glory on her.

She was utter disbelief while Bakugou looked at her, frantic, ambers shaking as his mouth fell agape. His mind tried to put the pieces together as she finally breathed out– and finally _smiled_.

His world, previously untidy, chaotic and mindlessly black, fell into place with hers, too. The colossal feeling of pressure on his being faded away slowly as their feelings fell into their place, together, in harmony. He felt it again, that twitch in his heart.

And this time, he was sure she felt it, too. Her eyes had blossomed into meteorites again, letting him dive into her pools of brown as he basked on a new feeling, the feeling of her by his side– she was meters away from her, but he felt her in his arms, hugging him again.

Bakugou didn't feel alone, anymore. Uraraka didn't feel heartbroken, anymore.

" _Yeah,"_ her shoulders shook, her smile reaching her eyes for the first time in centuries. It made Bakugou smile too, and the mere gesture brought goosebumps all over her. _"this feeling… this is the real thing."_

The emotions she had felt by his side… they were love after all– the electricity towards him, those powerful emotions for him… they were _love_. After all the pain, the doubt, and the fear of discovering that her feelings were not only unilateral, but also fake compared to the sharpness of these ones– suddenly, nothing mattered. That awkward feeling in her chest dissipated into the warm thin air as her tiny steps approached him, eyebrows low in a soft, sincere smile.

Those growing feelings that had stomped over those she had for Deku… these were real. She had been in the dark for too long already. The pain in her heart completely disappeared, and Uraraka wasn't afraid of embracing them anymore.

"I think…" Uraraka was by his side, now. "I think I know what those new feelings are, now."

His eyes widened. "You do? Then what the fuck was my moving speech for?"

"It was all thanks to _you_ , Bakugou– that I may finally be able to move on from this mess." her hand circled his elbow as she took him forward, towards the building. "C'mon, we should get on going. We've been here for too long."

The tone of her voice, so soft and inviting… He didn't feel unrequited, anymore. Rather, he felt light headed, flying, in peace. After the thunderstorm, the smell of her light and the sun hitting on his skin was the first thing to welcome him. And man, wasn't he happy.

"There's no need to hurry, angelface!"

She just giggled along the way. He felt the urge to giggle with her, kiss her, and hand her the world he desperately needed to share. It was too soon now, her coming to terms with those feelings and finally stepping away from Deku– but he'd make her realize that he was worth it, too. He didn't know it, but deep down, she had realized this long ago.

After all the trouble, the scars and the regret, he could only think one thing as they made it through the doors.

" _Man, am I not lucky."_

* * *

" _Duuuude_ , hand out the money, I won the bet clearly by a day of difference!"

Kaminari regretfully handed Kirishima the stack of bills, letting the redhead count them with analytic eye. "I still don't know why you leaked all this information though."

"Yeah, that was a bit low from you, dude."

Kirishima looked at both Tokoyami and Kaminari, who eyed him back twice as disappointed. "I had to take advantage of that motherfucker finally making a move on her. Don't blame me for this, after all we were all on edge for this."

"I wasn't."

"Tokoyami, shut it. Weren't it for us and you'd be sulking in your room doing homework." commented Kirishima as a joke, but it clearly vexed the aforementioned. "Besides, you have also gotten money for this."

"That's true."

"Now, there's this other bet I had in mind!" fearful for what the blonde would say about betting on the soon-to-be-couple, they prepared their weapons. "When they become an item, we have to– must, do a bet on when they're having se–"

Kirishima had already risen his fists to pound the guy to the ground with the help of a rather tired Tokoyami, mumbling something about darkness and sexual themes on open air.

Kirishima punched Tokoyami, too, for being too emo. It was being a fun day for the redhead.

And like that, the world started again.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I hope this wasn't too long. It certainly took fucking long as well. /faints and dies and... dies again


End file.
